m 


mm    • 


■ 

• 

*•••  I  * 


•*>  •# 


I  fjgbe  sotyetofyeire  see*)  if  obgelrbed,  ffaf  toe  sftoiild  ty^e  f(je  s^tye 
qse  of  g  goolf  ffaf  ffje  See  does  of  9  Jfiotoeir;  sfye  sfe^ls  stoeefs 
flroifi)  if,  5i|f  Does  oof  ini^e  if. 


Colton. 


(§xat  Crates 


BY 


<$reat   ^tttjjon. 


DICTIONARY 


OF 


%x)t%  to   Reflection, 

QUOTATIONS  OF  MAXIMS,  METAPHORS,  COUNSELS,  CAUTIONS, 
APHORISMS,  PROVERBS,  &c.  &c. 


Sinters  0f  all  $g*s  anfc  Mjj  f  emblem, 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT    &    CO, 

I8f9. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853,  by 

LTPPINCOTT,  GRAMBO  &  CO. 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Eastern  District  oi 

Pennsylvania. 


8TERE0TYPED  BY  L.  JOHNSON  &  CO. 
PHILADELPHIA. 


\xthtt  to  i\t  %mxum  dbitioit. 


(rreflf^  truths  bear  to  great  men  the  relation  at  once  of 
cause  and  effect.  A  sublime  truth,  once  uttered  and  made 
a  part  of  standard  literature,  becomes  thereafter  a  per- 
petual spur  to  noble  deeds.  The  maxims  of  the  wise  form 
part  of  a  nation  s  intellectual  coin,  and,  like  other  coin, 
serve  both  as  the  measure  and  the  prolific  source  of  intel- 
lectual wealth.  Alexander  the  Great,  it  is  said,  con- 
stantly slept  with  Homer  under  his  pillow.  The  ideal 
hero  of  the  Iliad  helped  to  make  the  real  heroes  of  later 
G-reece.  Great  ideas,  in  fact,  usually  precede  and  cause 
illustrious  achievements.  Hence  it  is  that  the  literature 
of  a  people  invariably  contains  within  it  that  which  has 
made  the  people  what  it  is. 

The  object  of  the  compiler  of  the  present  work  was  to 
collect  into  a  narrow  compass,  and  to  arrange  in  a  form 
convenient  for  reference  and  consultation,  a  choice  collec- 
tion of  the  remarkable  utterances  of  the  great  among  all 
nations,  but  chiefly  of  the  great  men  among  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  race.  The  American  Edition  has  been  enlarged 
and  enriched  by  numerous  extracts  from  the  writings  of 

vii 


PREFACE. 


our  own  distinguished  men.  Among  those  eminent  Ame- 
ricans whose  choicest  sayings  have  here  been  garnered, 
may  be  mentioned  the  names  of  Washington,  Adams, 
Jefferson,  Franklin,  Hamilton,  Ames,  Wirt,  Clay, 
Calhoun,  Webster,  Story,  Jonathan  Edwards,  Archi- 
bald Alexander,  Wayland,  Channing,  Irving,  Cooper, 
Bryant,  Longfellow,  Everett,  Prescott,  Bancroft,  Emer- 
son, and  many  others. 

The  work,  as  thus  enlarged  and  enriched,  forms  a 
mine  of  thought  of  inestimable  value  to  every  one.  To 
the  young,  particularly,  it  is  of  special  value-,  as  fur- 
nishing the  means  of  storing  the  youthful  mind  with  a 
fund  of  high  and  ennobling  thoughts,  such  as  have 
shaped  the  destinies  of  the  great  and  good  who  have 
preceded  them. 


4t£o  imi&o  s-vs&'ir/  a^E^rTf  8«63 


ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  TRUTH; 

OR, 

THINGS   NEW    AND    OLD. 


atJUSe  Of  Softer.  —  Shakspeare. 
THAT  Man,  that  sits  within  a  Monarch's  heart, 

And  ripens  in  the  sunshine  of  his  favour, 
Would  he  abuse  the  countenance  of  the  King, 
Alack,  what  mischiefs  might  he  set  abroach, 
In  shadow  of  such  Greatness  ! 

^CCUSattOn.  —  Shakspeare. 

I  would,  I  could 
Quit  all  offences  with  as  clear  excuse, 
As  well  as,  I  am  doubtless,  I  can  pur£e 
Myself  of  many  I  am  charged  withal : 
Yet  such  extenuation  let  me  beg, 
As,  in  reproof  of  many  tales  devised, 
By  smiling  Pick-thanks  and  base  Newsmongers, 
I  may,  for  some  things  true,  wherein  my  youth 
Hath  faulty  wander'd  and  irregular, 
Find  pardon  on  my  true  submission. 

Acquaintance.  —  Seneca. 

TT  is  safer  to  affront  some  People  than  to  oblige  them  ;  for  the 
better  a  Man  deserves,  the  worse  they  will  speak  of  him. 

acquaintance.  —Cowley. 

TF  we  engage  into  a  large  Acquaintance  and  various  familiarities, 
we  set  open  our  gates  to  the  Invaders  of  most  of  our  time :  we 
expose  our  Life  to  a  quotidian  Ague  of  frigid  Impertinences,  which 
would  make  a  wise  Man  tremble  to  think  of.  Now,  as  for  being 
known  much  by  sight,  and  pointed  at,  I  cannot  comprehend  the 
Honour  that  lies  in  that :  whatsoever  it  be,  every  Mountebank  has 
it  more  than  the  best  Doctor. 

l  l 


2  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

Acquaintance.  —  Lord  Bacon. 
"IT  is  good  discretion  not  to  make  too  much  of  any  man  at  the 
first;  because  one  cannot  hold  out  that  proportion. 

acquaintance,  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
T^THAT  makes  us  like  new  Acquaintances  is  not  so  much  any 
weariness  of  our  old  ones,  or  the  pleasure  of  change,  as 
disgust  at  not  being  sufficiently  admired  by  those  who  know  us 
too  well,  and  the  hope  of  being  more  so  by  those  who  do  not  know 
so  much  of  us. 

Acquirement.  —  Coiton. 

'THAT  which  we  acquire  with  the  most  difficulty  we  retain  the 
longest ;  as  those  who  have  earned  a  fortune  are  usually  more 
careful  than  those  who  have  inherited  one. 

Acting.  —  From  the  French. 
THERE   is  no    secret  in  the    heart  which  our  Actions  do    not 
disclose.     The  most  consummate  hypocrite  cannot  at  all  times 
conceal  the  workings  of  the  Mind. 

Acting.  —  Tillotson. 
TT  is  hard  to  personate  and  act  a  part  along ;  for  where  Truth  is 
not  at  the  bottom,  Nature  will  always  be  endeavouring  to  return, 
and  will'  peep  out  and  betray  herself  one  time  or  other. 

Action.  —  Colton. 
p)ELIBERATE  jjith  Caution,  but  act  with  Decision ;  and  yield 
with  Graciousness,  or  oppose  with  Firmness. 

Actibitg.  —  Longfellow. 
T  IVES  of  great  men  all  remind  us 
We  can  make  our  lives  sublime, 
And,  departing,  leave  behind  us 

Footprints  on  the  sands  of  Time. 
Let  us  then  be  up  and  doing; 

With  a  heart  for  any  fate, 
Still  achieving,  still  pursuing, 
Learn  to  labour  and  to  wait. 

Adaptation.  —  Lord  Greville. 
AS  we  should  adapt  the  style  of  our  writing  to  the  Capacity  of 
the  Person  it  is  addressed  to,  so  should  we  our  manner  of 
acting  ;  for  as  Persons  of  inferior  Understandings  will  misconceive, 
and  perhaps  suspect  some  sophistry  from  an  Elegance  of  Expres- 
sion which  they  cannot  comjrrehend,  so  Persons  of  inferior  Sentiment 
will  probably  mistake  the  intention,  or  even  suspect  a  fraud  from 
a  delicacy  of  acting  which  they  want  capacity  to  feel. 


OR,     THINGS    NEW    AND     OLD.  3 

adaptation.  —  From  the  Latin. 
TJE  alone  is  wise  who  can  accommodate  himself  to  all  the  contin- 
gencies of  Life ;  but  the  fool  contends,  and  is  struggling,  like 
a  swimmer  against  the  stream. 

adaptation.  —  Shakspeare. 
To  the  latter  end  of  a  Fray,  and  the  beginning  of  a  Feast, 
Fits  a  dull  Fighter,  and  a  keen  Guest. 

&*aptattOn.  — £*.  Eoremond. 

AS  long  as  you  are  engaged  in  the  World,  you  must  comply  with 

its  maxims;    because  nothing  is  more  unprofitable,  than  the 

Wisdom  of  those  persons  who  set  up  for  Reformers  of  the  Age. 

'Tis  a  part  a  man  cannot  act  long,  without  offending  his  friends 

and  rendering  himself  ridiculous. 

adaptation Gresset. 

The  Eagle  of  one  House  is  the  Fool  in  another. 

atftreSS.  —  Colton. 

A    MAN  who  knows  the  World,  will  not  only  make  the  most  of 

every  thing  he  does  know,   but  of  many  things  he  does  not 

know,  and  will  gain  more  credit  by  his  adroit  mode  of  hiding  his 

Ignorance,  than  the  Pedant  by  his  awkward  attempt  to  exhibit  his 

Erudition. 

atJOration Shakspeare. 

Religious  in  mine  error,  I  adore 

The  Sun,  that  looks  upon  his  worshipper, 

But  knows  of  him  no  more. 

atjbersfitg.—  Horace. 
A  DVERSITY  has  the  effect  of  eliciting  Talents,  which,  in  pros- 
perous Circumstances,  would  have  lain  dormant. 

atlbetSitp.  —  Shakspeare. 
You  were  used 
To  say,  Extremity  was  the  trier  of  Spirits ; 
That  common  chances  common  men  could  bear; 
That,  when  the  Sea  was  calm,  all  boats  alike 
Show'd  mastership  in  floating :  Fortune's  blows, 
When  most  struck  home,  being  gentle  wounded,  crave 
A  noble  cunning. 

atlberSitj).—  Byron. 

Some,  bow'd  and  bent, 
Wax  gray  and  ghastly,  withering  ere  their  time, 
And  perish  with  the  reed  on  which  they  leant ; 
Some  seek  Devotion,  Toil,  War,  Good  or  Crime, 
According  as  their  Souls  were  form'd  to  sink  or  climb. 


4  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

atlberSttg — Ordbhe. 

In  this  wild  world  the  fondest  and  the  best 

Are  the  most  tried,  most  troubled,  and  distress'd. 

gtttoWJSttg,  —  Thomson. 

Ye  good  distress'd ! 
Ye  noble  few !  who  here  unbending  stand 
Beneath  Life's  pressure,  yet  bear  up  awhile, 
And  what  your  bounded  view,  which  only  saw 
A  little  part,  deem'd  evil,  is  no  more ; 
The  storms  of  wintry  Time  will  quickly  pass, 
And  one  unbounded  Spring  encircle  all. 

atlbeCSttg.  —  Rogers. 
The  good  are  better  made  by  ill : — 
As  odours  crush' d  are  sweeter  still ! 

gUtoermtg.  —  Byron. 

A   THOUSAND  years  scarce  serve  to  form  a  State ; 

An  hour  may  lay  it  in  the  dust;  and  when 
Can  Man  its  shatter'd  splendour  renovate, 
Recall  its  virtues  back,  and  vanquish  Time  and  Fate  ? 

EtluCCSttg.  —  Lord  Grevilk. 

A  SK  the  Man  of  Adversity,  how  other  men  act  towards  him  : 

ask  those  others,  how  he  acts  towards  them.     Adversity  is  the 

true  touchstone  of  Merit  in  both;  happy  if  it  does  not  produce 

the  dishonesty  of  Meanness  in  one,  and  that  of  Insolence  and  Pride 

in  the  other. 

EtlbeCSttg.  —  Shakspeare. 
Sweet  are  the  uses  of  Adversity  ; 
Which,  like  the  toad,  ugly  and  venomous, 
Wears  yet  a  precious  jewel  in  his  head. 

EtlbetS  \X^  — Addison. 
'THE  Gods  in  bounty  work  up  Storms  about  us, 

That  give  Mankind  occasion  to  exert 
Their  hidden  Strength,  and  throw  out  into  practice 
Virtues  that  shun  the  day,  and  lie  conceal' d 
In  the  smooth  seasons  and  the  calms  of  Life. 

atjbctSttg.  —  Young. 

Affliction  is  the  good  Man's  shining  scene : 

Prosperity  conceals  his  brightest  ray ; 

As  Night  to  Stars,  Woe  lustre  gives  to  Man. 

^^itt.—Von  Knebel. 
TTE  who  can  take  Advice,  is  sometimes  superior  to  him  who  can 

give  it. 


OR,   THINGS  NHW  AND    OLD. 


w 


Affafiilitg.  —  From  the  French. 
Affability  in  a  Prince  is  the  magnet  of  Truth. 

Affectation*  —  Cowper. 

TN  Man  or  Woman,  but  far  most  in  Man, 
And  most  of  all  in  Man  that  ministers 
And  serves  the  Altar,  in  my  Soul  I  loathe 
All  Affectation.     'Tis  my  perfect  Scorn; 
Object  of  my  implacable  disgust. 

Affectation.  —  From  the  French. 
"E  are  never  rendered  so  ridiculous  by  Qualities  which  we  pos- 
sess, as  by  those  which  we  aim  at,  or  affect  to  have. 

Affectation.— Savaie. 

T  WILL  not  call  Vanity  and  Affectation  twins,  because,  more 
properly,  Vanity  is  the  Mother,  and  Affectation  is  the  darling 
Daughter;  Vanity  is  the  Sin,  and  Affectation  is  the  Punishment; 
the  first  may  be  called  the  Root  of  Self-love,  the  other  the  Fruit. 
Vanity  is  never  at  its  full  growth,  till  it  spreadeth  into  Affecta- 
tion ;  and  then  it  is  complete. 

affeCtatlOtl.—  St.  Evremond. 
AFFECTATION  is  a  greater  enemy  to  the  Face  than  the  small- 
pox. 

Affectation.  —  Goldsmith. 
'THE  unaffected  of  every  Country  nearly  resemble  each  other, 
and  a  page  of  our  Confucius  and  your  Tillotson  have  scarce  any 
material  difference.  Paltry  Affectation,  strained  Allusions,  and  dis- 
gusting Finery,  are  easily  attained  by  those  who  choose  to  wear 
them ;  they  are  but  too  frequently  the  badges  of  Ignorance,  or  of 
Stupidity,  whenever  it  would  endeavour  to  please. 

affWttOn.— SJiakspeare. 
UNREASONABLE  Creatures  feed  their  young: 

And  though  Man's  face  be  fearful  to  their  eyes, 
Yet,  in  Protection  of  their  tender  ones, 
Who  hath  not  seen  them  (even  with  those  wings 
Which  sometimes  they  have  used  with  fearful  flight) 
Make  war  with  him  that  climb'd  unto  their  nest, 
Offering  their  own  lives  in  their  young's  defence? 

affection.—  Rogers. 

Gknerous  as  brave, 
Affection,  Kindness,  the  sweet  offices 
Of  Love  and  Duty,  were  to  him  as  needful 
As  his  daily  bread. 


6  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

flLftUtiOn.— Shakspeare. 

I  have  given  suck :  and  know 
How  tender  'tis,  to  love  the  babe  that  milks  me. 

Affection,—  Anon. 
TN  the  Intercourse  of  social  Life,  it  is  by  little  acts  of  watchful 
Kindness,  recurring  daily  and  hourly, — and  opportunities  of 
doing  Kindnesses,  if  sought  for,  are  for  ever  starting  up, — it  is  by 
Words,  by  Tones,  by  Gestures,  by  Looks,  that  Affection  is  won  and 
preserved.  He  who  neglects  these  trifles,  yet  boasts  that,  when- 
ever a  great  sacrifice  is  called  for,  he  shall  be  ready  to  make  it, 
will  rarely  be  loved.  The  likelihood  is,  he  will  not  make  it :  and 
if  he  does,  it  will  be  much  rather  for  his  own  sake,  than  for  his 
Neighbour's. 

&ff  eCttOtt,  —  Shakspeare. 

The  poor  Wren, 
The  most  diminutive  of  birds,  will  fight, 
Her  young  ones  in  her  nest,  against  the  Owl. 

EffeCttOn.  —Shakspeare. 

A  Grandam's  name  is  little  less  in  Love 
Than  is  the  doting  title  of  a  Mother. 
They  are  as  Children,  but  one  step  below. 

£l00»  — Shakspeare. 
0,  Sir,  you  are  old ; 
Nature  in  you  stands  on  the  very  verge 
Of  her  confine ;  you  should  be  ruled  and  led 
By  some  discretion,  that  discerns  your  state 
Better  than  you  yourself. 

£lQ£,  —  Shakspeare. 
T'HE  aim  of  all  is  but  to  nurse  the  Life 

With  Honour,  Wealth  and  Ease,  in  waning  Age: 
And  in  this  aim  there  is  such  thwarting  strife, 
That  one  for  all,  or  all  for  one  we  gage : 
As  Life  for  Honour  in  fell  Battles  rage, 
Honour  for  Wealth,  and  oft  that  Wealth  doth  cost 
The  death  of  all,  and  altogether  lost. 
So  that  in  vent' ring  all,  we  leave  to  be 
The  things  we  are  for  that  which  we  expect : 
And  this  ambitious  foul  Infirmity, 
In  having  much,  torments  us  with  defect 
Of  that  we  have  :  so  then  we  do  neglect 
The  thing  we  have,  and  all  for  want  of  Wit, 
Make  something  nothing  by  augmenting  it. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  7 

&g**  —  Steele. 
A  X  healthy  old  Fellow,  that  is  not  a  Fool,  is  the  happiest  creature 
living.  It  is  at  that  Time  of  Life  only  Men  enjoy  their  facul- 
ties with  pleasure  and  satisfaction.  It  is  then  we  have  nothing  to 
manage,  as  the  phrase  is;  we  speak  the  downright  Truth,  and 
whether  the  rest  of  the  World  will  give  us  the  privilege  or  not,  we 
have  so  little  to  ask  of  them,  that  we  can  take  it. 

**8£* — La  Rochefoucauld. 
Few  People  know  how  to  be  old. 

a§e.—  Byron. 

VET  Time,  who  changes  all,  had  alter'd  him 
In  Soul  and  Aspect  as  in  Age  :  Years  steal 
Fire  from  the  Mind  as  vigour  from  the  Limb : 
And  Life's  enchanted  cup  but  sparkles  near  the  brim. 

glge.  —  Sir  W.  Temple. 
'THERE  cannot  live  a  more  unhappy  creature  than  an  ill-natured 
old  Man  who  is  neither  capable  of  receiving  pleasures  nor  sen- 
sible of  doing  them  to  others. 

.H(je.  —  Shakspeare. 

These  old  Fellows  have 
Their  Ingratitude  in  them  hereditary : 
Their  blood  is  cak'd,  'tis  cold,  it  seldom  flows ; 
'Tis  lack  of  kindly  warmth,  they  are  not  kind; 
And  Nature,  as  it  grows  again  toward  Earth, 
Isfashion'd  for  the  journey,  dull  and  heavy. 

3tJC  —  Pope. 
["  EARN  to  live  well,  or  fairly  make  your  will ; 

You've  play'd,  and  lov'd,  and  ate,  and  drank  your  Fill, 
Walk  sober  off,  before  a  sprightlier  Age 
Come's  titt'ring  on,  and  shoves  you  from  the  stage  : 
Leave  such  to  trifle  with  more  grace  and  ease 
Whom  folly  pleases,  and  whose  follies  please. 

2l(je.  —  Armstrong. 
Though  old,  he  still  retain'd 
His  manly  Sense,  and  energy  of  Mind. 
Virtuous  and  wise  he  was,  but  not  severe ; 
He  still  remember'd  that  he  once  was  young  : 
His  easy  presence  check'd  no  decent  joy. 
Him  even  the  dissolute  admir'd ;  for  he 
A  graceful  looseness  when  he  pleas' d  put  on, 
And  laughing  could  instruct. 
B 


8  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

&ge.  —  Spenser. 
'"THE  careful  cold  hath  nipt  my  rugged  rind, 

And  in  my  Face  deep  furrows  eld  hath  plight; 
My  Head  besprent  with  hoary  frost  I  find, 
And  by  mine  Eye  the  crow  his  claw  doth  wright ; 
Delight  is  laid  abed,  and  pleasure,  past; 
No  Sun  now  shines,  clouds  have  all  over-cast. 

£lge»  —  Young. 
A  GE  should  fly  concourse,  cover  in  retreat 
Defects  of  Judgment,  and  the  will  subdue; 
Walk  thoughtful  on  the  silent,  solemn  shore 
Of  that  vast  Ocean  it  must  sail  so  soon. 

glge*— Swift. 

YITHEN  Men  grow  virtuous  in  their  old  Age,  they  are  merely 
making  a  sacrifice  to  God  of  the  Devil's  leavings. 

/3.QP.  —  Madame  de  Stael. 
It  is  difficult  to  grow  old  gracefully. 

EgmafclnUSS.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
Y\TE  may  say  of  Agreeableness,  as  distinct  from  Beauty,  that  it 
consists  in  a  Symmetry  of  which  we  know  not  the  rules,  and 
a  secret  Conformity  of  the  Features  to  each  other,  and  to  the  air 
and  complexion  of  the  Person. 

&tmS*  —Kant. 
TITHAT  are  the  Aims,  which  are  at  the   same  time  Duties  ? 
They   are,    the   perfecting   of  ourselves,    the    happiness  of 
others. 

13dng  alone.  —  Cowley. 

rFHE  first  Minister  of  State  has  not  so  much  business  in  public, 
as  a  wise  Man  has  in  private :  if  the  one  have  little  leisure  to 
be  alone,  the  other  has  less  leisure  to  be  in  Company;  the  one 
has  but  part  of  the  affairs  of  one  nation,  the  other  all  the  works 
of  God  and  Nature  under  his  consideration. 

EminttOtt,  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
IV/rODERATTON  cannot  have  the  credit  of  combating  and  sub- 
duing Ambition — they  are  never  found  together.     Moderation 
is  the  Languor  and  Indolence  of  the  Soul,  as  Ambition  is  its  Ac- 
tivity and  Ardour. 

EmfotttOtt.  —  Byron. 
TTE  who  ascends  to  mountain-tops,  shall  find 

The  loftiest  peaks  most  wrapt  in  clouds  and  snow ; 
He  who  surpasses  or  subdues  Mankind, 
Must  look  down  on  the  hate  of  those  below. 


OR,    THIXGS  NEW  AXD   OLD. 


.HmbtttOlt.  —  Shalcspeare. 

I  have  ventur'd, 
Like  little  wanton  boys  that  swim  on  bladders, 
This  many  summers  in  a  Sea  of  Glory : 
But  far  beyond  my  depth  :  my  high-blown  Pride 
At  length  broke  under  me ;  and  now  has  left  me, 
"Weary,  and  old  with  service,  to  the  mercy 
Of  a  rude  stream,  that  must  for  ever  hide  me. 

amutttOn.  —  Byron. 
T>UT  quiet  to  quick  bosoms  is  a  Hell, 

And  there  hath  been  thy  bane ;  there  is  a  Fire 
And  motion  of  the  Soul  which  will  not  dwell 
In  its  own  narrow  Being,  but  aspire 
Beyond  the  fitting  medium  of  Desire; 
And,  but  once  kindled,  quenchless  evermore, 
Preys  upon  high  adventure,  nor  can  tire 
Of  aught  but  rest ;  a  Fever  at  the  core, 
Fatal  to  him  who  bears,  to  all  who  ever  bore. 
This  makes  the  Madmen  who  have  made  men  mad 
By  their  contagion;  Conquerors  and  Kings, 
Founders  of  Sects  and  Systems,  to  whom  add 
Sophists,  Buds,  Statesmen,  all  unquiet  Things 
Which  stir  too  strongly  the  Soul's  secret  Springs, 
And  are  themselves  the  Fools  to  those  they  fool ; 
Envied,  yet  how  uuenviable  !  what  stings 
Are  theirs  !     One  breast  laid  open  were  a  School 
Which  would  unteach  Mankind  the  Lust  to  shine  or  rule. 

HmttttOn.  —  Shakspeare. 
T)REAMS,  indeed,  are  Ambition;  for  the  very  substance  of  the 
ambitious  is  merely  the  shadow  of  a  Dream.      And   I  hold 
Ambition  of  so  airy  and  light  a  quality,  that  it  is  but  a  shadow's 
shadow. 

3 m u tt 1 : 0 It .  —  La  Bnu/ere. 
A    SLAVE  has  but  one  Master,  the  ambitious  Man  has  as  many 
Masters  as  there  are  persons  whose  aid  may  contribute  to  the 
advancement  of  his  Fortune. 

Slmugf  mcnt0.  —  Burton. 
I"  ET  the  World  have  their  May-games,  Wakes,  Whitsunales  ; 
their  Dancings  and  Concerts  ;  their  Puppet-shows,  Hobby- 
horses, Tabors,  Bagpipes,  Balls,  Barley-breaks,  and  whatever 
Bporta  and  recreations  please  them  best,  provided  they  be  fol- 
lowed with  discretion. 


10  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

Enatfjema.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

If  she  must  teem, 
Create  her  child  of  Spleen,  that  it  may  live, 
And  be  a  thwart  disnatur'd  torment  to  her  ! 
Let  it  stamp  wrinkles  in  her  brow  of  Youth  ; 
With  cadent  tears  fret  channels  in  her  Cheeks ; 
Turn  all  her  Mother's  pains,  and  benefits, 
To  laughter  and  contempt;  that  she  may  feel, 
How  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth  it  is, 
To  have  a  thankless  child  ! 

&rtati)ema.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
r\  VILLAINS,  Vipers,  damn'd  without  redemption; 

Dogs,  easily  won  to  fawn  on  any  man  ; 
Snakes  in  my  heart-blood  warm'd,  that  sting  my  heart; 
Three  Judasses,  each  one  thrice  worse  than  Judas  I 

glnatCimg.  —  Melandhon. 
TT  is  shameful  for  Man  to  rest  in  ignorance  of  the  structure  of 
his  own  Body,  especially  when  the  knowledge  of  it  mainly  con- 
duces   to    his   welfare,    and    directs   his   application    of  his   own 
Powers. 

ancestry  —  Coiton. 

TT  is  with  Antiquity  as  with  Ancestry,  Nations  are  proud  of  the 
one,  and  Individuals  of  the  other ;  but  if  they  are  nothing  in 
themselves,  that  which  is  their  pride  ought  to  be  their  humilia- 
tion. 

%Lmt8tt$.  —  Percival. 

I  am  one, 
Who  finds  within  me  a  nobility, 
That  spurns  the  idle  pratings  of  the  great, 
And  their  mean  boast  of  what  their  fathers  were, 
While  they  themselves  are  fools  effeminate, 
The  scorn  of  all  who  know  the  worth  of  mind 
And  virtue. 

giltfCStq).  —  Dankl  Webster. 
'THERE  may  be,  and  there  often  is,  indeed  a  regard  for  an- 
cestry, which  nourishes  only  a  weak  pride ;  as  there  is  also  a 
care  for  posterity,  which  only  disguises  an  habitual  avarice,  or 
hides  the  workings  of  a  low  and  grovelling  vanity.  But  there  is 
also  a  moral  and  philosophical  respect  for  our  ancestors,  which  ele- 
vates the  character  and  improves  the  heart. 

£ttt0Cr.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
Must  I  give  way  and  room  to  your  rash  Choler  ? 
Shall  I  be  frighted,  when  a  Madman  stares  ? 


gLnQtt.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
Fret,  till  your  proud  heart  break ; 
Go,  show  your  Slaves  how  choleric  you  are, 
And  make  your  Bondsmen  tremble.     Must  I  budge? 
Must  I  observe  you  ?     Must  I  stand  and  crouch 
Under  your  testy  humour  ?     By  the  Gods, 
You  shall  digest  the  venom  of  your  Spleen, 
Though  it  do  split  you  :  for,  from  this  day  forth, 
I'll  use  you  for  my  Mirth,  yea,  for  my  Laughter, 
When  you  are  waspish. 

anger.— piutarc%. 

rTHE  continuance  and  frequent  fits  of  Anger  produce  an  evil 
habit  in  the  Soul,  called  Wrathfulness,  or  a  propensity  to  be 
angry  ;  which  ofttimes  ends  in  Choler,  Bitterness,  and  Morosity ; 
when  the  Mind  becomes  ulcerated,  peevish,  and  querulous,  and 
like  a  thin,  weak  plate  of  iron,  receives  impression,  and  is  wounded 
by  the  least  occurrence. 

Hnget.—  Pope. 

'THEN  flash'd  the  living  Lightning  from  her  eyes, 
And  screams  of  horror  rend  th'  affrighted  skies. 
Not  louder  shrieks  to  pitying  Heaven  are  cast, 
When  husbands,  or  when  lap-dogs,  breathe  their  last; 
Or  when  rich  china  vessels,  fall'n  from  high, 
In  glitt'ring  dust  and  painted  fragments  lie  ! 

&ltget.  —  Spenser. 
A  ND  him  beside  rides  fierce  revenging  Wrath 

Upon  a  Lion  loth  for  to  be  led ; 
And  iu  his  hand  a  burning  Brond  he  hath, 
The  which  he  brandisheth  about  his  hed ; 
His  eies  did  hurle  forth  sparcles  fiery  red, 
And  stared  sterne  on  all  that  him  beheld ; 
As  ashes  pale  of  hew  and  seeming  ded ; 
And  on  his  dagger  still  his  hand  he  held 
Trembling  through  hasty  Rage  when  Choler  in  him  sweld. 

ginger.  —  Savage. 
When  Anger  rushes,  uurestrain'd  to  action, 
Like  a  hot  steed,  it  stumbles  in  its  way. 
The  Man  of  Thought  strikes  deepest,  and  strikes  safely. 

Hngcr.—  Coiton. 

rriIE  Sun  should  not  set  upon  our  Anger,  neither  should  he  rise 
upon  our   Confidence.     We   should   forgive  freely,   but  forget 
rarely.     I  will  not  be  revenged,  and  this  I  owe  to  my  Enemy; 
but  1  will  remember,  and  this  I  owe  to  myself 

b2 


12  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

anger,  —  Clarendon. 
A  NGRY  and  choleric  Men  are  as  ungrateful  and  unsociable  as 
Thunder  and  Lightning,  being  in  themselves  all  Storm  and 
Tempests;  but  quiet  and  easy  Natures  are  like  fair  Weather, 
welcome  to  all,  and  acceptable  to  all  Men;  they  gather  together 
what  the  other  disperses,  and  reconcile  all  whom  the  other  in- 
censes :  as  they  have  the  good  will  and  the  good  wishes  of  all  other 
Men,  so  they  have  the  full  possession  of  themselves,  have  all  their 
own  thoughts  at  peace,  and  enjoy  quiet  and  ease  in  their  own 
fortunes,  how  strait  soever  it  may  be. 

Unger.  —  Shakspeare. 
T  ET  your  Reason  with  your  Choler  question 

What  'tis  you  go  about.     To  climb  steep  hills 
Requires  slow  pace  at  first.     Anger  is  like 
A  full  hot  horse ;  who  being  allow'd  his  way, 
Self-mettle  tires  him. 

&Ttgcr<—  Plutarch. 
T  AMENTATION  is  the  only  musician  that  always,  like  a  screech- 
owl,  alights  and  sits  on  the  roof  of  an  angry  Man. 

&ttgtf*:-—  Plutarch. 

"TAD  I  a  careful  and  pleasant  companion,  that  should  show  me 
my  angry  face  in  a  glass,  I  should  not  at  all  take  it  ill;  to 
behold  a  Man's  self  so  unnaturally  disguised  and  disordered,  will 
conduce  not  a  little  to  the  Impeachment  of  Anger. 

&ntagOnt!Sm.  —  Lord  Greville. 
COME  Characters  are  like  some  bodies  in  Chemistry;  very  good 
perhaps  in  themselves,  yet  fly  off  and  refuse  the  least  conjunc- 
tion with  each  other. 

Cj)e  antt^Uarg.  —  Peter  Pindar. 
"DARE  are  the  Buttons  of  a  Roman's  breeches, 

In  Antiquarian  eyes  surpassing  riches  : 
Rare  is  each  crack'd,  black,  rotten,  earthen  dish, 
That  held  of  ancient  Rome  the  flesh  and  fish. 

Entt^ttttg.—  Chesterfield. 

J  DO  by  no  means  advise  you  to  throw  away  your  Time,  in  ran- 
sacking, like  a  dull  Antiquarian,  the  minute  and  unimportant 
parts  of  remote  and  fabulous  times.     Let  blockheads  read,  what 
blockheads  wrote. 

EttttqjUttg.  —  Tacitus. 

A  LL  those  things  which  are  now  held  to  be  of  the  greatest  An- 
tiquity, were,  at  one  time,  new;  and  what  we  to-day  hold  up 
by  Example,  will  rank  hereafter  as  a  Precedent. 


OR,     THINGS    NEW   AND    OLD.  13 

&ttttquttg*  —  Colton. 
TT  has  been  observed,  that  a  Dwarf  standing  on  the  shoulders 
of  a  Giant,  will  see  farther  than  the  Giant  himself;  and  the 
Moderns,  standing  as  they  do  on  the  vantage-ground  of  former  dis- 
coveries, and  uniting  all  the  fruits  of  the  experience  of  their  fore- 
fathers, with  their  own  actual  observation,  may  be  admitted  to 
enjoy  a  more  enlarged  and  comprehensive  view  of  things  than  the 
Ancients  themselves;  for  that  alone  is  true  Antiquity,  which  em- 
braces the  Antiquity  of  the  World,  and  not  that  which  would  refer 
us  back  to  a  period  when  the  World  was  young.  But  by  whom  is 
this  true  Antiquity  enjoyed?  Not  ty  the  Ancients  who  did  live 
in  the  infancy,  but  by  the  Moderns  who  do  live  in  the  maturity  of 
things. 

ErtttqUttg.—  Burke. 
"lYTHEN  ancient  Opinions  and  Rules  of  Life  are  taken  away,  the 
loss  cannot  possibly  be  estimated.     From  that  moment  we 
have  no   compass  to   govern  us;   nor  can  we  know   distinctly  to 
what  nort  to  steer. 

EppcatanreS.  —  Shakspeare. 
'THE  World  is  still  deceived  with  Ornament. 
In  Law,  what  Plea  so  tainted  and  corrupt, 
But,  being  season'd  with  a  gracious  Voice, 
Obscures  the  Show  of  Evil  ?     In  Religion, 
What  damned  Error,  but  some  sober  Brow 
Will  bless  it,  and  approve  it  with  a  text, 
Hiding  the  grossness  with  fair  Ornament? 
There  is  no  Vice  so  simple,  but  assumes 
Some  mark  of  Virtue  on  its  outward  parts. 
How  many  Cowards,  whose  hearts  are  all  as  false 
As  stairs  of  sand,  wear  yet  upon  their  chins 
The  beards  of  Hercules,  and  frowning  Mars; 
Who,  inward  search'd,  have  livers  white  as  milk  ? 
And  these  assume  but  Valour's  excrement, 
To  render  them  redoubted.     Look  on  Beauty, 
And  you  shall  see  'tis  purchased  by  the  weight; 
Which  therein  works  a  miracle  in  Nature, 
Making  them  lightest  that  wear  most  of  it : 
So  are  those  crisped  snaky  golden  locks, 
Which  make  such  wanton  gambols  with  the  wind, 
Upon  supposed  Fairness,  often  known 
To  be  the  dowry  of  a  second  head, 
The  skull  that  bred  them,  in  the  sepulchre. 
Thus  Ornament  is  but  the  guiled  shore 
To  the  most  dangerous  sea;  the  beauteous  scarf 


14  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Vailing  an  Indian  beauty  ;  in  a  word, 

The  seeming  Truth  which  cunning  Times  put  on 

To  entrap  the  wisest. 

Appearances,  —ia  Rochefoucauld. 
TN  all  the  professions  every  one  affects  a  particular  look  and  ex- 
terior, in  order  to  appear  what  he  wishes  to  be  thought ;  so  that 
it  may  be  said  the  World  is  made  up  of  Appearances. 

Appearances.  —  Churchill. 

Appearances  to  save  his  only  care ; 

So  things  seem  right,  no  matter  what  they  are. 

Appearances.  —  s/mkspeare. 

'THERE  is  a  fair  Behaviour  in  thee,  Captain  ; 

And  though  that  Nature  with  a  beauteous  wall 
Doth  often  close  in  pollution,  yet  of  thee 
I  will  believe,  thou  hast  a  Mind  that  suits 
With  this  thy  fair  and  outward  Character. 

SlppceCtattOn.  —  Lord  GrevilU. 
VOU  may  fail  to  shine,  in  the  opinion  of  others,  both  in  your 
Conversation  and  Actions,  from  being  superior,  as  well  as  in- 
ferior, to  them. 

appccfteiston.  —  Burke. 
"DETTER  to    be    despistd    for  too  anxious    apprehensions,  than 
ruined  by  too  confident  a  security. 

argument.—  Butler. 
It  is  vain 
^1  see)  to  argue  'gainst  the  grain, 
>r  like  the  stars,  incline  men  to 
What  they're  averse  themselves  to  do; 
For  when  disputes  are  wearied  out, 
;Tis  inter'st  still  resolves  the  doubt. 

artStOCraCg.  —Eward  Everett. 
\\THAT  subsists  to-day  by  violence,  continues  to-morrow  by 
acquiescence,  and  is  perpetuated  by  tradition ;  till  at  last  the 
hoary  abuse  shakes  the  gray  hairs  of  antiquity  at  us,  and  gives 
itself  out  as  the  wisdom  of  ages.  Thus  the  clearest  dictates  of 
reason  are  made  to  yield  to  a  long  succession  of  follies. 

And  this  is  the  foundation  of  the  aristocratic  system  at  the 
present  day.  Its  stronghold,  with  all  those  not  immediately  inte- 
rested in  it,  is  the  reverence  of  antiquity. 

art.  —  From  the  Latin. 
It  is  the  Height  of  Art  to  conceal  Art. 


s 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  15 

<H.tt.  — -Lavater. 
HTHE  enemy  of  Art  is  the  enemy  of  Nature ;  Art  is  nothing  but 
the  highest  sagacity  and  exertions  of  Human  Nature ;  and  what 
Nature  will  he  honour  who  honours  not  the  Human  ? 

Artifice.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
'THE  ordinary  employment  of  Artifice  is  the  mark  of  a  petty 
Mind ;  and  it  almost  always  happens  that  he  who  uses  it  to 
cover  himself  in  one  place,  uncovers  himself  in  another. 

,R CntlCe.  —  Washington  Irving. 
'THERE  is  a  certain  artificial  polish — a  common-place  vivacity 
acquired  by  perpetually  mingling  in  the  beau  Monde,  which,  in 
the  commerce  of  the  World,  supplies  the  place  of  natural  suavity 
and  good  humour,  but  is  purchased  at  the  expense  of  all  original 
and  sterling  traits  of  Character  :  by  a  kind  of  fashionable  discipline, 
the  Eye  is  taught  to  brighten,  the  Lip  to  smile,  and  the  whole 
Countenance  to  emanate  with  the  semblance  of  friendly  Welcome, 
while  the  Bosom  is  unwarmed  by  a  single  Spark  of  genuine 
Kindness  and  good-will. 

&8CCn'iiCnC)).—Lord  Greville. 
WHATEVER  natural  Right  Men  may  have  to    Freedom  and 
Independency,  it  is  mauifest  that  some  Men  have  a  natural 
Ascendency  over  others. 

.Asking.  —  Fuller. 
TF  thou  canst  not  obtain  a  Kindness  which  thou  desirest,  put  a 
good    face  on  it,  show  no  Discontent  nor  Surliness :    an  hour 
may  come,  when  thy  request  may  be  granted. 

.HSSOCtatCS.  —  From  the  Latin. 
TF  you  always  live  with  those  who  are  lame,  you  will  yourself 
learn  to  limp. 

.HSSOCt'atCS.  —  La  Bnujere. 
TF  Men  wish  to  be  held  in  Esteem,  they  must  associate  with  those 
only  who  are  estimable. 

Associates.  —  Lavater. 
TE  who  comes  from  the  Kitchen  smells  of  its  smoke ;  he  who 
adheres  to  a  Sect  has  something  of  its  Cant;  the  College-Air 
pursues  the  Student,  and    dry  Inhumanity  him  who    herds  with 
literary  Pedants. 

aSSOCiateS.  —  Lord  Chesterfield. 
("MIOOSE   the    company  of  your  superiors,   whenever   you    can 
have  it;   that  is  the  right  and  true  Pride. 

assuming.  —  jhMoy. 

A  SSUMED  Qualities  may  catch  the  Affections  of  some,  but  one 
must  possess  Qualities  really  good,  to  fix  the  heart. 


16  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

&8J50riate8.  —  Fuller. 
ASSOCIATE  with  Men  of  good  Judgment:  for  Judgment  is 
found  in  Conversation.     And  we  make  another  Man's  Judg- 
ment ours,  by  frequenting  his  Company. 

&00OCtate!3.  —  Shakspeare. 

Thou  art  noble  ;  yet,  I  see, 
Thy  honourable  Metal  may  be  wrought 
From  that  it  is  disposed.     Therefore  'tis  meet 
That  noble  Minds  keep  ever  with  their  Likes : 
For  who  so  firm,  that  cannot  be  seduced  ? 

ESttuttOmp.  —  Cicero. 
THE  contemplation  of  Celestial  Things  will  make  a  Man  both 
speak  and  think  more  sublimely  and  magnificently  when  he 
descends  to  human  affairs. 

attjetSttt.  —  Hare. 
THERE  is  no  being  eloquent  for  Atheism.     In  that  exhausted 
receiver  the  Mind  cannot  use  its  wings, — the  clearest  proof 
that  it  is  out  of  its  element. 

&tf) etStm  —Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury. 
V/ITHOEVER  considers   the  Study  of  Anatomy,  I  believe,  will 
never  be  an  Atheist;  the  frame  of  Man's  Body,  and  Cohe- 
rence of  his  Parts,  being  so  strange  and  paradoxical,  that  I  hold 
it  to  be  the  greatest  Miracle  of  Nature. 

gUjjetgm*  —  Washington  Allston. 
THE  atheist  may  speculate,  and  go  on  speculating  till  he  is 
brought  up  by  annihilation;  he  may  then  return  to  life,  and 
reason  away  the  difference  between  good  and  evil ;  he  may  even  go 
further,  and  imagine  to  himself  the  perpetration  of  the  most  atro- 
cious acts ;  and  still  he  may  eat  his  bread  with  relish,  and  sleep 
soundly  in  his  bed;  for  his  sins,  wanting  as  it  were  substance, 
having  no  actual  solidity  to  leave  their  traces  in  his  memory,  all 
future  retribution  may  seem  to  him  a  thing  with  which,  in  any  event, 
he  can  have  no  concern ;  but  let  him  once  turn  his  theory  to  practice — 
let  him  make  crime  palpable — in  an  instant  he  feels  its  hot  impress 
on  his  soul. 

&Utf)0tttg-  —  Shakspeare. 
^HOUG-H  Authority  be  a  stubborn  bear,  yet  he  is  oft  led  by 
the  nose  with  gold. 

&Utf)0tttg-  —  Shakspeare. 
Authority,  though  it  err  like  others, 
Hath  yet  a  kind  of  Med'cine  in  itself, 
That  skins  the  vice  o'  the  top. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  17 

.HlitfjOrttg.  —  Shdkspeare. 

0  Place  !  0  Form  ! 
How  often  dost  thou  with  thy  case,  thy  habit, 
Wrench  awe  from  fools,  and  tie  the  wiser  souls 
To  thy  false  seeming  ? 

HlltfjOntg.  —  Shdkspeare. 
Authority  bears  a  credent  bulk, 
That  no  particular  scandal  one  can  touch, 
But  it  confounds  the  breather. 

HutfjOCS.—  Johnson. 
T>EOPLE  may  be  taken  in  once,  who  imagine  that  an  Author  is 
greater  in  private  life  than  other  Men. 

EutljOTS.  _  Longfellow. 
T'HE  motives  and  purposes  of  authors  are  not  always  so  pure  and 
high,  as,  in  the  enthusiasm  of  youth,  we  sometimes  imagine. 
To  many  the  trumpet  of  fame  is  nothing  but  a  tin  horn  to  call  them 
home,  like  laborers  from  the  field,  at  dinner-time,  and  they  think 
themselves  lucky  to  get  the  dinner. 

authors.  —  Colton. 
TT  is  a  doubt  whether  Mankind  are  most  indebted  to  those  who, 
like  Bacon  and  Butler,  dig  the  gold  from  the  mine  of  Literature, 
or  to  those  who,  like  Paley,  purify  it,  stamp  it,  fix  its  real  value, 
and  give  it  currency  and  utility.  For  all  the  practical  purposes 
of  Life,  Truth  might  as  well  be  in  a  prison  as  in  the  folio  of  a 
Schoolman,  and  those  who  release  her  from  her  cobwebbed  shelf, 
and  teach  her  to  live  with  Men,  have  the  merit  of  liberating,  if  not 
of  discovering  her. 

EuttjOUS.  —  Sir  Egerton  Brydges. 
A UTHORS  have  not  always  the  power  or  habit  of  throwing 
their  talents  into  conversation.  There  are  some  very  just 
and  well-expressed  observations  on  this  point  in  Johnson's  Life 
of  Dryden,  who  was  said  not  at  all  to  answer  in  this  respect  the 
Character  of  his  Genius.  I  have  observed  that  vulgar  readers 
almost  always  lose  their  veneration  for  the  writings  of  the  Genius 
with  whom  they  have  had  personal  intercourse. 

&Utf)Ot0.  —  Colton. 
'pHE  Society  of  dead  Authors  has  this  advantage  over  that  of  the 
living )  they  never  flatter  us  to  our  faces,  nor  slander  us  be- 
hind our  backs,  nor  intrude  upon  our  privacy,  nor  quit  their 
shelves  until  we  take  them  down.  Besides,  it  is  always  easy  to 
shut  a  Book,  but  not  quite  so  easy  to  get  rid  of  a  lettered  Cox- 
comb. 


18  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 

&Utf)0t!5.  —  Byron. 
"DUT  every  Fool  describes  in  these  bright  days 

His  wondrous  Journey  to  some  foreign  Court", 
And  spawns  his  Quarto,  and  demands  your  praise. 

&UtijOrS.  —  Young. 
COME  write,  confined  by  Physic;  some,  by  Debt; 

Some,  for  'tis  Sunday;  some,  because  'tis  wet; 
Another  writes  because  his  Father  writ, 
And  proves  himself  a  Bastard  by  his  Wit. 

&UtJjum  —  Byron. 
TTE  had  written  Praises  of  a  Regicide  ; 

He  had  written  Praises  of  all  Kings  whatever ; 
He  had  written  for  Republics  far  and  wide, 
And  then  against  them  bitterer  than  ever. 

EutfjOtS.—  Butler. 
TV/TUCH  thou  hast  said,  which  I  know  when 
And  where  thou  stol'st  from  other  Men ; 
Whereby  'tis  plain  thy  Light  and  Gifts 
Are  all  but  plagiary  Shifts. 

&tttjJ0rg.  —  Gowper. 

And  Novels  (witness  every  Month's  Review) 
Belie  their  Name  and  offer  nothing  new. 

%LUt$tlT8.— Johnson. 

CUCCESS  and  Miscarriage  have  the  same  effects  in  all  conditions. 
The  prosperous  are  feared,  hated,  and  flattered ;  and  the  unfor- 
tunate avoided,  pitied,  and  despised.  No  sooner  is  a  Book  pub- 
lished, than  the  Writer  may  judge  of  the  opinion  of  the  World. 
If  his  Acquaintance  press  round  him  in  public  Places,  or  salute  him 
from  the  other  side  of  the  Street ;  if  Invitations  to  dinner  come 
thick  upon  him,  and  those  with  whom  he  dines  keep  him  to  Supper ; 
if  the  Ladies  turn  to  him  when  his  coat  is  plain,  and  the  Footmen 
serve  him  with  attention  and  alacrity;  he  may  be  sure  that  his 
Work  has  been  praised  by  some  Leader  of  literary  Fashions. 

EutfjOtS.—  Byron. 
/~)NE  hates  an  Author  that's  all  Author,  Fellows 

In  Foolscap  uniforms  turn'd  up  with  ink, 
So  very  anxious,  clever,  fine,  and  jealous, 

One  don't  know  what  to  say  to  them,  or  think, 
Unless  to  puff  them  with  a  pair  of  bellows  : 

Of  Coxcombry's  worst  Coxcombs,  e'en  the  Pink 
Are  preferable  to  these  shreds  of  paper, 
These  unquench'd  snuffings  of  the  midnight  taper. 


OR,   THING  S   NEW  AND    OLD.  19 

SUltfjOtt).—  Spenser. 
TXOW  many  great  Ones  may  remember'd  be, 

Which  in  their  days  most  famously  did  flourish, 
Of  whom  no  word  we  hear,  nor  Sign  now  see, 
But  as  things  wip'd  out  with  a  spur.ge  do  perish, 
Because  the  living  cared  not  to  cherish 
No  gentle  Wits,  through  pride  or  covetize, 
Which  might  their  Names  for  ever  memorize  ! 

&Utf)0rg.—  Cowper. 

None  but  an  Author  knows  an  Author's  cares, 
Or  Fancy's  fondness  for  the  child  she  bears. 
&Utumtt Spenser. 

HTHEN  came  the  Autumne,  all  in  Yellow  clad, 
As  though  he  joyed  in  his  plenteous  store, 

Laden  with  Fruits  that  made  him  laugh,  full  glad 

That  he  bad  banisht  Hunger,  which  to-fore 

Had  by  the  belly  oft  him  pinched  sore ; 

Upon  his  Head  a  Wreath,  that  was  enrold 

With  ears  of  Corne  of  every  sort,  he  bore, 

And  in  his  Hand  a  Sickle  he  did  holde, 

To  reape  the  ripened  Fruit  the  which  the  Earth  had  yold. 

&Uttimn.  —  Thomson. 
TTLED  is  the  blasted  Verdure  of  the  Fields; 

And  shrunk  into  their  Beds,  the  flowery  .Race 
Their  sunny  robes  resign.     Even  what  remain'd 
Of  stronger  Fruits  falls  from  the  naked  Tree  ; 
And  Woods,  Fields,  Gardens,  Orchards,  all  around 
The  desolated  prospect  thrills  the  soul. 

fSfowtitt.— Hughes. 

IT  may  be  remarked  for  the  comfort  of  honest  Poverty,  that  Ava- 
rice reigns  most  in  those  who  have  but  few  good  Qualities  to 
recommend  them.     This  is  a  Weed  that  will  grow  in  a  barren  Soil. 

abattce.  —  Moore. 
The  Love  of  G-old,  that  meanest  rage, 
And  latest  folly  of  Man's  sinking  age, 
Which,  rarely  venturing  in  the  van  of  life, 
While  nobler  passions  wage  their  heated  strife, 
Comes  skulking  last,  with  Selfishness  and  Fear, 
And  dies,  collecting  lumber  in  the  rear  ! 

Ebartce.  — Pope. 

TMCHES,  like  Insects,  when  conceal'd  they  lie, 
Wait  but  for  wings,  and  in  their  season  fly. 
Who  sees  pale  Mammon  pine  amidst  his  store, 
C 


20  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 


Sees  but  a  backward  steward  for  the  poor; 
This  year,  a  reservoir,  to  keep  and  spare ; 
The  next,  a  fountain,  spouting  through  his  heir, 
In  lavish  Streams  to  quench  a  Country's  thirst, 
And  men  and  dogs  shall  drink  him  till  they  burst. 

&bartce,  —  Pope. 

"\\TEALTH  in  the  gross  is  death,  but  Life  diffused; 

As  Poison  heals,  in  just  proportion  used  : 
In  Heaps,  like  Ambergris,  a  Stink  it  lies, 
But  well  dispersed,  is  Incense  to  the  Skies. 

&uartCe.  —  Blair. 
Q  CURSED  Lust  of  Gold  :  when  for  thy  sake 

The  Fool  throws  up  his  interest  in  both  worlds, 
First  starved  in  this,  then  damn'd  in  that  to  come. 

&battCe.  —  Spenser. 
A  ND  greedy  Avarice  by  him  did  ride 

Upon  a  Camell  leaden  all  with  Gold  : 
Two  Iron  Coffers  hong  on  either  side, 
With  precious  Metall  full  as  they  might  hold, 
And  in  his  Lap  an  Heap  of  Coine  he  told; 
For  of  his  wicked  Pelf  his  God  he  made, 
And  unto  Hell  him  selfe  for  Money  sold ; 
Accursed  Usury  was  all  his  Trade, 

And  Right  and  Wrong  ylike  in  equall  Ballaunce  waide. 
His  Life  was  nigh  unto  Death's  Dore  yplaste; 
And  thred-bare  Cote  and  cobled  Shoes  he  ware, 
Ne  scarse  good  Morsell  all  his  Life  did  taste, 
But  both  from  Backe  and  Belly  still  did  spare, 
To  fill  his  bags,  and  Richesse  to  compare : 
Yet  Childe  nor  Kinsman  living  had  he  none 
To  leave  them  to;  but,  thorough  daily  care 
To  get,  and  nightly  feare  to  loose  his  owne, 
He  led  a  wretched  life  unto  himself  unknowne. 

&battCe.  —  La  Rocliefoucaidd. 
A  VARICE  often  produces  opposite  effects;  there  is  an  infinite 
number  of  People  who  sacrifice  all  their  property  to  doubtful 
ind  distant  Expectations;  others  despise  great  future  Advantages 
to  obtain  present  Interests  of  a  trifling  nature. 

&battCe.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
T^XTREME  Avarice  almost  always  mistakes  itself;  there  is  no 
Passion  which  more  often  deprives  itself  of  its  Object,  nor  on 
which  the  Present  exercises  so  much  Power  to  the  prejudice  of  the 
Future. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  21 

Etta  nee*  —  Coiton. 

'THE  Avarice  of  the  Miser  may  be  termed  the  grand  Sepulchre 
of  all  his  other  Passions,  as  they  successively  decay.     But,  un- 
like other  Tombs,  it  is  enlarged  by  Repletion,  and  strengthened  by 
Age. 

&tofctoartmess.  —  CkurcMU. 

TATHAT'S  a  fine  Person,  or  a  beauteous  Face, 

Unless  Deportment  gives  them  decent  Grace  ? 
Bless' d  with  all  other  requisites  to  please, 
Some  want  the  striking  Elegance  of  Ease; 
The  curious  e}Te  their  awkward  movement  tires; 
They  seem  like  Puppets  led  about  by  wires. 

^atJtnage.  — Zimmerman. 
TN  the  sallies  of  Badinage  a  polite  fool  shines;  but  in  Gravity  he 
is  as  awkwaH  ^s  an  elephant  disporting. 

iJilStf  UlnrSS.  —  Fuller. 
r^ONCEIT  not  so  high  a  notion  of  any,  as  to  be  bashful  and  im- 
potent in  their  presence. 

i$asif)f  UlllCSS.  —  Plutarch. 

AS  those  that  pull  down  private  houses  adjoining  to  the  Temples 
of  the  Gods,  prop  up  such  parts  as  are  contiguous  to  them; 
so,  in  undermining  Bashfulness,  due  regard  is  to  be  had  to  adjacent 
Modesty,  Good-nature,  and  Humanity. 

iiaSijfltlttCSS.  —  Mackenzie. 
T'HERE  are  two  distinct  Sorts  of  what  we  call  Bashfulness: 
this,  the  awkwardness  of  a  Booby,  which  a  few  steps  into  the 
world  will  convert  into  the  pertness  of  a  Coxcomb :  that  a  Con- 
sciousness, which  the  most  delicate  Feelings  produce,  and  the  most 
extensive  Knowledge  cannot  always  remove. 

iSeaUtj).  —  Shakspeare. 

For  her  own  Person, 
It  beggar'd  all  Description;  she  did  lie 
In  her  pavilion, 

O'erpicturing  that  Venus,  where  we  see, 
The  Fancy  out-work  Nature. 

ISeaUtj}.—  Byron. 
AN  Eye's  an  Eye,  and  whether  black  or  blue, 
Is  no  great  matter,  so  'tis  in  request; 
'Tis  Nonsense  to  dispute  about  a  Hue — 

The  kindest  may  be  taken  as  a  Test. 
The  fair  Sex  should  be  always  fair;   and  no  Man, 
Till  thirty,  should  perceive  there's  a  plain  Woman. 


22  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

$3eaUtl>.  —  Sir  A.  Hunt. 
WHAT  is  Beauty?     Not  the  Show 

Of  shapely  Limbs  and  Features.     No. 
These  are  but  flowers 
That  have  their  dated  hours 
To  breathe  their  momentary  Sweets,  then  go. 
'Tis  the  stainless  Soul  within 
That  outshines  the  fairest  Skin. 

2SeaUtg-  —  Rogers. 

But  then  her  Face, 
So  lovely,  yet  so  arch,  so  full  of  mirth, 
The  overflowings  of  an  innocent  Heart. 

Beaittg.  —  Byron. 
T\THO  bath  not  proved  how  feebly  Words  essay 

To  fix  one  spark  of  Beauty's  heaveu.y  ray? 
Who  dotb  not  feel,  until  his  failing  sight 
Faints  into  dimness  with  its  own  delight, 
His  changing  cheek,  his  sinking  heart  confess 
The  Might — the  Majesty  of  Loveliness? 

tttaut)).  —  Spenser. 
T  ONG-  while  I  sought  to  what  I  might  compare 

Those  powerful  Eyes,  which  lighten  my  dark  Spirit; 
Yet  found  I  nought  on  Earth,  to  which  I  dare 
Resemble  the  Image  of  their  goodly  light. 
Not  to  the  Sun,  for  they  do  shine  by  Night; 
Nor  to  the  Moon,  for  they  are  changed  never; 
Nor  to  the  Stars,  for  they  have  purer  Sight; 
Nor  to  the  Fire,  for  they  consume  not  ever; 
Nor  to  the  Lightning,  for  they  still  presever; 
Nor  to  the  Diamond,  for  they  are  more  tender; 
Nor  unto  Chrystal,  for  nought  may  them  sever; 
Nor  unto  Glass,  such  Baseness  mought  offend  her; 
Then  to  the  Maker's  Self  they  likest  be; 
Whose  light  doth  lighten  all  that  here  we  see 

ISeaittP.  —  Byron. 
CHE  gazed  upon  a  World  she  scarcely  knew 

As  seeking  not  to  know  it;  silent,  lone, 
As  grows  a  Flower,  thus  quietly  she  grew, 

And  kept  her  Heart  serene  within  its  Zone. 
There  was  Awe  in  the  Homage  which  she  drew; 

Her  Spirit  seem'd  as  seated  on  a  throne 
Apart  from  the  surrounding  World,  and  strong 
In  its  own  strength — most  strange  in  one  so  young! 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  23 

i3eautg.  —  Milton. 

Beauty,  like  the  fair  Hesperian  Tree 
Laden  with  blooming  Gold,  had  need  the  guard 
Of  Dragon- watch  with  unenchanted  eye, 
To  save  her  Blossoms  and  defend  her  Fruit 
From  the  rash  hand  of  bold  Incontinence. 

13eaUt|).  —  Spenser. 
pOR  shee  was  full  of  amiable  Grace, 

And  manly  Terror  mixed  therewithal; 
That  as  the  one  stirr'd  up  Affections  base, 
So  th'other  did  Men's  rash  Desires  apall, 
And  hold  them  backe,  that  would  in  error  fall : 
As  he  that  hath  espide  a  vermeill  Rose, 
To  which  sharpe  Thornes,  and  Breeres  the  way  forstall, 
Dare  not  for  Dread  his  hardy  Hand  expose, 
But  wishing  it  farr  off  his  ydle  Wish  doth  lose. 

!3eaittg.  —  Shakspeare. 
How  like  Eve's  Apple  doth  thy  Beauty  grow, 
If  thy  sweet  Virtue  answer  not  thy  Show ! 

iSeautj).  —  Shakspeare. 
Could  Beauty  have  better  commerce  than  with  Honesty? 

BeailtS*  —  Spenser. 

TTER  Looks  were  like  beams  of  the  morning  Sun, 
Forth-looking  through  the  window  of  the  East, 
When  first  the  fleecie  Cattle  have  begun 
Upon  their  perled  grass  to  make  their  feast. 

ISeaUtg.  —  Rochester. 
OH !  she  is  the  Pride  and  Glory  of  the  World : 
Without  her,  all  the  rest  is  worthless  dross : 
Life,  a  base  slavery;  Empire  but  a  mock; 
And  Love,  the  Soul  of  all,  a  bitter  curse. 

13eautj).  —  Byron. 
TTER  glossy  Hair  was  cluster'd  o'er  a  Brow 

Bright  with  intelligence,  and  fair  and  smooth; 
Her  Eyebrow's  Shape  was  like  the  aerial  Bows, 
Her  Cheek  all  purple  with  the  beam  of  Youth, 
Mounting  at  times  to  a  transparent  glow, 
As  if  her  Veins  ran  lightning. 

beauty.  —  Lee. 

Is  she  not  brighter  than  a  Summer's  Morn, 

When  all  the  Heaven  is  streak'd  with  dappled  Fires, 

And  fleck'd  with  Blushes  like  a  rifled  Maid? 


'24  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

33eaUt£.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
All  Orators  are  dumb,  when  Beauty  pleadeth. 
23eaUt£.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

The  Roman  Dame, 
Within  whose  face  Beauty  and  Virtue  strived 
Which  of  them  both  should  underprop  her  Fame : 
When  Virtue  bragg'd  Beauty  would  blush  for  Shame; 
When  Beauty  boasted  Blushes,  in  despite 
Virtue  would  stain  that  o'er  with  Silver  White. 
But  Beauty,  in  that  White  intituled, 

IFrom  Venus'  Doves  doth  challenge  that  fair  field; 
Then  Virtue  claims  from  Beauty  Beauty's  Bed, 
Which  Virtue  gave  the  Golden  Age  to  gild 
Their  Silver  Cheeks,  and  call'd  it  then  their  shield; 
Teaching  them  thus  to  use  it  in  the  fight, — 
When  Shame  assail'd,  the  Bed  should  fence  the  White. 

Ifoatltg,  —  Milton. 
TJEAUTY  is  Nature's  Coin,  must  not  be  hoarded, 

But  must  be  current,  and  the  Good  thereof 
Consists  in  mutual  and  partaken  Bliss, 
',  Unsavoury  in  th'  enjoyment  of  itself: 

If  you  let  slip  Time,  like  a  neglected  rose, 
It  withers  on  the  stalk  with  languish'd  head. 

2BeaUt£ Byron. 

TTER  Glance  how  wildly  beautiful!  how  much 

Hath  Phoebus  woo'd  in  vain  to  spoil  her  Cheek, 
Which  glows  yet  smoother  from  his  amorous  clutch  !  . 
Who  round  the  North  for  paler  dames  would  seek  ? 
How  poor  their  forms  appear  !  how  languid,  wan,  and  weak  T 

iSeautg.  —  Spenser. 
VE  tradeful  Merchants  !  that  with  weary  toil 

Do  seek  most  precious  things  t-o  make  your  gain ; 
And  both  the  Indias  of  their  treasure  spoil, 
What  needeth  you  to  seek  so  far  in  vain  ? 
For  lo  !  my  Love  doth  in  herself  contain 
All  this  World's  Riches  that  may  far  be  found; 
If  Saphyrs,  lo  !  her  Eyes  be  Saphyrs  plain; 
If  Rubies,  lo  !  her  Lips  be  Rubies  sound ; 
If  Pearls,  her  Teeth  be  Pearls,  both  pure  and  round , 
If  Ivory,  her  Forehead  Ivory  ween  ; 
If  Gold,  her  locks  are  finest  Gold  on  Ground; 
If  Silver,  her  fair  Hands  are  Silver  Sheen  : 
But  that  which  fairest  is,  but  few  behold, 
Her  mind,  adorn'd  with  Vertues  manifold. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  25 

33eaut|).  _  Spenser. 

'THE  Fairness  of  her  Face  no  tongue  can  tell, 

For  she  the  Daughters  of  all  Women's  Race, 
And  Angels  eke,  in  Beautie  doth  excell, 
Sparkled  on  her  from  God's  owne  glorious  Face, 
And  more  increast  by  her  owne  goodly  Grace, 
That  it  doth  farre  exceed  all  human  Thought, 
Ne  can  on  Earth  compared  be  to  ought. 

i3eaut£.  —  Shak'speare. 
Beauty  lives  with  Kindness. 

IScaUtj).  _  Crabbe. 
T  0  !  when  the  Buds  expand  the  Leaves  are  green, 

Then  the  first  opening  of  the  Flower  is  seen  ; 
Then  come  the  honied  breath  and  rosy  smile, 
That  with  their  sweets  the  willing  sense  beguile ; 
But  as  we  look,  and  love,  and  taste,  and  praise, 
And  the  Fruit  grows,  the  charming  Flower  decays; 
Till  all  is  gather'd,  and  the  wintry  blast 
Moans  o'er  the  place  of  love  and  pleasure  past. 

So  'tis  with  Beauty, — such  the  opening  grace 
And  dawn  of  glory  in  the  youthful  face; 
Then  are  the  charms  unfolded  to  the  sight, 
Then  all  is  loveliness  and  all  delight; 
The  nuptial  tie  succeeds,  the  genial  hour, 
And,  lo  !  the  falling  off  of  Beauty's  flower; 
So  through  all  Nature  is  the  progress  made, — 
The  Bud,  the  Bloom,  the  Fruit, — and  then  we  fade. 

$3eautt>.  —  Spenser. 
"POR  Beauty  is  the  bait  which  with  delight 
Doth  Man  allure,  for  to  enlarge  his  kind ; 
Beauty,  the  burning  lamp  of  Heaven's  light, 
Darting  her  beams  into  each  feeble  Mind, 
Against  whose  power  nor  God  nor  Man  can  find 
Defence,  reward  the  daunger  of  the  wound ; 
But  being  hurt,  seek  to  be  medicin'd 
Of  her  that  first  did  stir  that  mortal  stownd. 

$3eaUt£.—  Byron. 
Heart  on  her  Lips,  and  Soul  within  her  Eyes. 
Soft  as  her  clime,  and  sunny  as  her  skies. 

13cautg.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
That  whiter  skin  of  her'a  than  snow, 
And  smooth  as  monumental  abibaster. 


2«  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

igeatttg.  —  Spenser. 
T70R  sure  of  all  that  in  this  mortal  frame 

Contained  is,  nought  more  Divine  doth  seem, 
Or  that  resembleth  more  th'  immortal  flame 
Of  heavenly  light,  than  Beauty's  glorious  beam. 
What  wonder  then  if  with  such  rage  extreme 
Frail  men,  whose  eyes  seek  heavenly  things  to  see, 
At  sight  thereof  so  much  enravish'd  be  ? 

ISeautg.  —  Mrs.  Tighe. 
OH!  how  refreshing  seem'd  the  breathing  wind 

To  her  faint  limbs  !  and  while  her  snowy  hands 
From  her  fair  brow  her  golden  hair  unbind, 
And  of  her  zone  unloose  the  silken  bands, 
More  passing  bright  unveil'd  her  Beauty  stands; 
For  faultless  was  her  Form  as  Beauty's  Queen, 
And  every  winning  grace  that  Love  demands, 
With  wild  attemper'd  dignity  was  seen 
Play  o'er  each  lovely  limb,  and  deck  her  angel  mien. 

2SeaUt£.  —  Byron. 

QUCH  was ! — such  around  her  shone 

The  nameless  Charms  unmark'd  by  her  alone; 
The  Light  of  Love,  the  Purity  of  Grace, 
The  Mind,  the  Music  breathing  from  her  Face, 
The  Heart  whose  softness  harmonized  the  whole — 
And,  oh  !  that  Eye  was  in  itself  a  Soul ! 

ISeaUtg,  —  Shakspeare. 
Fair  Ladies,  mask'd,  are  Roses  in  their  Bud : 
Dismask'd,  their  damask  sweet  commixture  shown, 
Are  Angels  vailing  Clouds,  or  Roses  blown. 

^tmty.  — Scott. 
^HERE  was  a  soft  and  pensive  Grace, 

A  cast  of  thought  upon  her  Face, 
That  suited  well  the  Forehead  high, 
The  Eye-lash  dark,  and  downcast  Eye  : 
The  mild  Expression  spoke  a  mind 
In  duty  firm,  composed,  resign'd. 

I&emty.  — Spenser. 
Every  Spirit  as  it  is  most  pure, 
And  hath  in  it  the  more  of  heavenly  light, 
So  it  the  fairer  Body  doth  procure 

To  habit  in 

For  of  the  Soul  the  Body  form  doth  take, 
For  Soul  is  form  and  doth  the  Body  make- 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD. 

IStdUt)).  — Byron. 
slHE  was  a  Form  of  Life  and  Light, 
That,  seen,  became  a  part  of  sight , 
And  rose,  where'er  I  turn'd  mine  eye, 
The  Morning-star  of  Memory  ! 

ISeaUtp.  —  Shakspeare. 
My  Beauty,  though  but  mean, 
Needs  not  the  painted  nourish  of  your  praise ; 
Beauty  is  bought  by  judgment  of  the  eye, 
Not  utter'd  by  base  sale  of  chapmen's  tongues. 

tStatttg.—  Moore. 

T^HILE  she,  who  sang  so  gently  to  the  lute 
Her  dream  of  home,  steals  timidly  away, 
Shrinking  as  violets  do  in  summer's  ray, 
But  takes  with  her  from  Aziin's  heart  that  sigh 
We  sometimes  give  to  forms  that  pass  us  by 
In  the  world's  crowd,  too  lovely  to  remain, 
Creatures  of  light  we  never  see  again! 

ISeailtg.— Byron. 

TMJT  Virtue's  self,  with  all  her  tightest  laces, 
Has  not  the  natural  stays  of  strict  old  age; 
And  Socrates,  that  model  of  all  duty, 

Own'd  to  a  penchant,  though  discreet,  for  Beauty. 

i3eautp.  —  Shakspeare. 
CINCE  brass  nor  stone,  nor  earth  nor  boundless  sea, 

But  sad  Mortality  o'er-sways  their  power, 
How  with  this  rage  shall  Beauty  hold  a  plea, 
Whose  action  is  no  stronger  than  a  flower  ? 
0,  how  shall  Summer's  honey  breath  hold  out 
Against  the  wreckful  siege  of  battering  days, 
When  rocks  impregnable  are  not  so  stout, 
Nor  gates  of  steel  so  strong,  but  Time  decays  ? 
0  fearful  Meditation  !  where,  alack, 
Shall  Time's  best  jewel  from  Time's  chest  lie  hid? 
Or  what  strong  hand  can  hold  his  swift  foot  back  ? 
Or  who  his  spoil  of  Beauty  can  forbid? 

13caUtj).  —  Shakspeare. 
,rFIS  Beauty  truly  blent,  whose  red  and  white 

Nature's  own  sweet  and  cunning  hand  laid  on : 
Lady,  you  are  the  cruell'st  She  alive, 
If  you  will  lead  these  graces  to  the  grave, 
And  leave  the  world  no  copy. 


28  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

13  c autj).  —  Milton. 

He  on  his  side 
Leaning  half  rais'd,  with  looks  of  cordial  love 
Hung  over  her  enamour'd,  and  beheld 
Beauty,  which  whether  waking  or  asleep, 
Shot  forth  peculiar  graces. 

UeaUtg,  —  Moore. 
"PV'N  then,  her  Presence  had  the  power 

To  soothe,  to  warm, — nay,  ev'n  to  bless — 
If  ever  bliss  could  graft  its  flower 
On  stem  so  full  of  bitterness — 
Ev'n  then  her  glorious  Smile  to  me 

Brought  warmth  and  radiance,  if  not  balm, 
Like  Moonlight  on  a  troubled  sea, 

Brightening  the  storm  it  cannot  calm. 

SBeautg-—  Pope. 

"VET  graceful  Ease,  and  Sweetness  void  of  Pride, 

Might  hide  her  faults,  if  Belles  had  faults  to  hide 
If  to  her  share  some  female  errors  fall, 
Look  on  her  Face,  and  you'll  forget  'em  all. 

SSeailtg.  —  Shakspeare. 
I  SAW  sweet  Beauty  in  her  Face, 
Such  as  the  daughter  of  Agenor  had, 
That  made  great  Jove  to  humble  him  to  her  hand, 
When  with  his  knees  he  kiss'd  the  Cretan  strand. 

.     I  saw  her  coral  Lips  to  move, 
And  with  her  Breath  she  did  perfume  the  air : 
Sacred  and  sweet,  was  all  I  saw  in  her. 
UeaUtg.  —  Ben  Jonson. 
(^JJVE  me  a  Look,  give  me  a  Face, 
That  makes  Simplicity  a  Grace ; 
Bobes  loosely  flowing,  Hair  as  free ! 
Such  sweet  neglect  more  taketh  me, 
Than  all  the  adulteries  of  art ; 
That  strike  mine  eyes,  but  not  my  heart. 
Iteutg.—  Rome. 
From  every  blush  that  kindles  in  thy  Cheeks, 
Ten  thousand  little  Loves  and  Graces  spring 
To  revel  in  the  Boses. 

25eaUtj).  —  Shahspeare. 
()H,  She  doth  teach  the  torches  to  burn  bright! 
Her  Beauty  hangs  upon  the  cheek  of  Night 
Like  a  rich  jewel  in  an  Ethiop's  ear: 
Beauty  too  rich  for  use,  for  Earth  too  dear. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  29 

ISeatttg.  —  Shakspeare, 
Move  these  eyes  ? 
Or  whether,  riding  on  the  balls  of  mine, 
Seem  they  in  motion  ?     Here  are  sever'd  Lips, 
Parted  with  sugar  breath ;  so  sweet  a  bar 
Should  sunder  such  sweet  friends  :  Here  in  her  Hairs 
The  painter  plays  the  spider;  and  hath  woven 
A  golden  mesh  to  entrap  the  hearts  of  men, 
Faster  than  gnats  in  cobwebs :  but  her  Eyes, — 
How  could  he  see  to  do  them  ?  having  made  one, 
Methinks  it  should  have  power  to  steal  both  his, 
And  leave  itself  unfinish'd. 

13eaUtg,  — Joanna  Baillie. 
'TO  make  the  cunning  artless,  tame  the  rude, 

Subdue  the  haughty,  shake  th'  undaunted  soul ; 
Yea,  put  a  bridle  in  the  lion's  mouth, 
And  lead  him  forth  as  a  domestic  cur, 
These  are  the  triumphs  of  all-powerful  Beauty  ! 

ISeailtp.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTER  Stature,  as  wand-like  straight, 

As  silver-voiced ;  her  Eyes  as  Jewel-like, 
And  cased  as  richly;  in  pace  another  Juno  ; 
Who  starves  the  ears  she  feeds,  and  makes  them  hungry, 
The  more  she  gives  them  speech. 

ISeautp.  —  Shakspeare. 
JJEAUTY  is  but  a  vain  and  doubtful  Good, 

A  shining  Glass,  that  fadeth  suddenly ; 
A  flower  that  dies,  when  first  it  'gins  to  bud; 
A  brittle  glass,  that's  broken  presently ; 
A  doubtful  Good,  a  Gloss,  a  Glass,  a  flower, 
Lost,  faded,  broken,  dead  within  an  hour. 

And  as  Good  lost,  is  seld  or  never  found, 
As  fading  Gloss  no  rubbing  will  refresh, 
As  flowers  dead,  lie  wither'd  on  the  ground, 
As  broken  Glass  no  Cement  can  redress, 
So  Beauty  blemish'd  once,  for  ever's  lost, 
In  spite  of  physic,  painting,  pain  and  cost. 

ISeautj). — Joanna  Baillie. 
TITITH  Goddess-like  demeanor  forth  she  went, 

Not  unattended,  for  on  her  as  Queen 
A  pomp  of  winning  Graces  waited  still, 
And  from  about  her  shot  darts  of  desire 
Into  all  eyes  to  wish  her  still  in  sight. 


ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

ISeatttg.—  Addison. 

,rTIS  not  a  set  of  Features,  or  Complexion, 

The  tincture  of  a  Skin,  that  I  admire  : 
Beauty  soon  grows  familiar  to  the  Lover, 
Fades  in  his  eye,  and  palls  upon  the  sense. 

ISeaUtg.  —  Thomson. 
Her  form  was  fresher  than  the  morning  Rose, 
When  the  dew  wets  its  leaves  ;  unstain'd  and  pure, 
As  is  the  Lily,  or  the  mountain  Snow. 

ISeaUf  g.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTER  lily  Hand  her  rosy  Cheek  lies  under, 

Cozening  the  pillow  of  a  lawful  kiss : 
Without  the  bed  her  other  fair  Hand  was, 
On  the  green  coverlet :  whose  perfect  white 
Show'd  like  an  April  daisy  on  the  grass, 
With  pearly  sweat,  resembling  dew  of  Night. 
Her  Eyes,  like  marigolds,  had  sheathed  their  light ; 
And,  canopied  in  darkness,  sweetly  lay, 
Till  they  might  open  to  adorn  the  day. 

ISeaUtg.—  Thomson. 

A  native  Grace 
Sat  fair-proportion'd  on  her  polish'd  Limbs, 
VeiPd  in  a  simple  robe,  their  best  attire, 
Beyond  the  pomp  of  dress:  for  Loveliness 
Needs  not  the  foreign  aid  of  Ornament, 
But  is  when  unadorn'd  adorn' d  the  most. 

33eaUtg*  —  Shakspeare. 

She  looks  as  clear 
As  morning  Roses  newly  wash'd  with  Dew. 

l^CaUtg.  — Joanna  Baillie. 

When  I  approach 
Her  Loveliness,  so  absolute  she  seems 
And  in  herself  complete,  so  well  to  know 
Her  own,  that  what  she  wills  to  do  or  say, 
Seems  wisest,  virtuousest,  discreetest,  best;  ' 
All  higher  knowledge  in  her  Presence  falls 
Degraded,  Wisdom  in  discourse  with  her 
Lose  discount'nanc'd,  and  like  Folly  shows. 

33caUtj>.  —  Young. 
What  tender  force,  what  dignity  divine, 
What  virtue  consecrating  every  Feature  ; 
Around  that  Neck  what  dross  are  gold  and  pearl ! 


OR,     THINGS    NEW    AND     OLD.  3 J 

13eaUtg.—  Blair. 
TJEAUTY  !  thou  pretty  plaything  !  dear  deceit ! 
That  steals  so  softly  o'er  the  stripling's  heart, 
And  gives  it  a  new  pulse  unknown  before. 
The  grave  discredits  thee  :  thy  Charms  expunged, 
Thy  Roses  faded,  and  thy  Lilies  soil'd, 
What  hast  thou  more  to  boast  of?     Will  thy  lovers 
Flock  round  thee  now,  to  gaze  and  do  thee  homage  ? 
Methinks  I  see  thee  with  thy  Head  laid  low ; 
Whilst  surfeited  upon  thy  damask  Cheek, 
The  high-fed  worm,  in  lazy  volumes  roll'd, 
Riots  unscar'd.     For  this  was  all  thy  caution  ? 
For  this  thy  painful  labours  at  thy  glass, 
T'  improve  those  Charms,  and  keep  them  in  repair, 
For  which  the  spoiler  thanks  thee  not  ?     Foul  feeder  ! 
Coarse  fare  and  carrion  please  thee  full  as  well, 
And  leave  as  keen  a  relish  on  the  sense. 

!3eaUtg.—  Jeffrey. 

Beauty 
That  transitory  Flower :  e'en  while  it  lasts 
Palls  on  the  roving  sense,  when  held  too  near, 
Or  dwelling  there  too  long  :  by  fits  it  pleases  ; 
And  smells  at  distance  best :  its  sweets,  familiar 
By  frequent  converse,  soon  grow  dull  and  cloy  you. 

ISeautp,  —  Moore. 
f)H,  what  a  pure  and  sacred  thing 

Is  Beauty,  curtain'd  from  the  sight 
Of  the  gross  World,  illumining 

One  only  mansion  with  her  light : 
Unseen  by  Man's  disturbing  eye — 

The  Flower,  that  blooms  beneath  the  Sea 
Too  deep  for  sun-beams,  doth  not  lie 
Hid  in  more  chaste  obscurity ! 

33caUtj),  — Lansdowne. 
She  seizes  hearts,  not  waiting  for  consent, 
Like  sudden  death,  that  snatches  unprepared ; 
Like  fire  from  Heav'n,  scarce  seen  so  soon  as  felt. 

iSeaittg.  —  Otway. 
A  NGELS  were  painted  fair  to  look  like  you  : 

There's  in  you  all  that  we  believe  of  Heav'n — 
Amazing  Brightness,  Purity,  and  Truth, 
Eternal  Joy,  and  everlasting  Peace. 
D 


82  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

^tauty.  —  Roive. 
The  Bloom  of  op'ning  Flowers,  unsullied  Beauty, 
Softness,  and  sweetest  Innocence  she  wears, 
ALd  looks  like  Nature  in  the  World's  first  Spring. 

IkaUtg*  —  Southern. 
0  how  I  grudge  the  grave  this  heav'nly  Form ! 
Thy  Beauties  will  inspire  the  arms  of  Death, 
And  warm  the  pale  cold  tyrant  into  life. 

ISeailtj)-  —  Roioe. 
Is  she  not  more  than  painting  can  express, 
Or  youthful  Poets  fancy,  when  they  love. 

ISeaUtg.  —  Patterson. 
0  fatal  Beauty  !  why  art  thou  bestow'd 
On  hapless  Woman  still  to  make  her  wretched ! 
Betray'd  by  thee,  how  many  are  undone  ! 

33eaUtg.  —  Lee. 
A  lavish  planet  reign'd  when  she  was  born, 
And  made  her  of  such  kindred  mould  to  Heav'n, 
She  seems  more  Heav'n's  than  ours. 

15caUtg.  —  Dry  den. 
QNE  who  would  change  the  worship  of  all  climates, 

And  make  a  new  Religion  where'er  she  comes, 
Unite  the  differing  faiths  of  all  the  World, 
To  idolize  her  Face. 

ISeaUtg.—  From  the  French. 
Beauty,  unaccompanied  by  Virtue,  is  as  a  Flower  without  Perfume. 

Ueatltg.  —  St.  Pierre. 
T^VERY  trait  of  Beauty  may  be  referred  to  some  virtue,  as  to  In- 
nocence, Candour,  Generosity,  Modesty,  and  Heroism. 

13eaUtg.  —  From  the  Italian. 
gOCRATES  called  Beauty  a  short-lived  Tyranny;  Plato,  a  Pri- 
vilege of  Nature;  Theophrastus,  a  silent  Cheat;  Theocritus,  a 
delightful  Prejudice;  Carneades,  a  solitary  Kingdom ;  Domitian 
said,  that  nothing  was  more  grateful ;  Aristotle  affirmed  that 
Beauty  was  better  than  all  the  letters  of  recommendation  in  the 
World;  Homer,  that 'twas  a  glorious  gift  of  Nature;  and  Ovid, 
alluding  to  him,  calls  it  a  favour  bestowed  by  the  Gods. 

3SeaUtp,  —  Lord  Greville. 
THHE  Criterion  of  true  Beauty  is,  that  it  increases  on  examination , 
of  false,  that  it  lessens.     There  is  something,  therefore,  in  true 
Beauty  that  corresponds  with  right  reason,  and  is  not  merely  the 
creature  of  Fancy. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND   OLD.  33 

iStaUty.—Dnjden. 
\TARK  her  majestic  Fabrick ;  she's  a  Temple 

Sacred  by  birth,  and  built  by  hands  Divine  : 
Her  Soul's  the  Deity  that  lodges  there; 
Nor  is  the  Pile  unworthy  of  the  God. 

^fatltj).  — Anonymous. 
TJEAUTY  is  spread  abroad  through  earth  and  sea  and  sky,  and 
dwells  on  the  face  and  form,  and  in  the  heart  of  Man;  and  he 
will  shrink  from  the  thought  of  its  being  a  thing  which  he,  or  any 
one  else,  could  monopolize.  He  will  deem  that  the  highest  and 
most  blessed  privilege  of  his  genius  is,  that  it  enables  him  to  che- 
rish the  widest  and  fullest  sympathy  with  the  hearts  and  thoughts 
of  his  brethren. 

ISeaUtJ).  —  Dryden. 
Her  Eyes,  her  Lips,  her  Cheeks,  her  Shapes,  her  Features, 
Seem  to  be  drawn  by  Love's  own  hand;  by  Love 
Himself  in  love. 

ISeailtjf).  —  Lee. 

0  she  is  all  Perfections  ! 
All  that  the  blooming  Earth  can  send  forth  fair; 
All  that  the  gaudy  Heavens  could  drop  down  glorious. 

13eaUtP.—  Otway. 
Oh  !  she  has  Beauty  might  ensnare 
A  Conqueror's  soul,  and  make  him  leave  his  crown 
At  random,  to  be  scuffled  for  by  slaves. 

13eaut2.  —  Colton. 
T'Hx'VT  is  not  the  most  perfect  Beauty,  which,  in  public,  would 
attract  the  greatest  observation ;  nor  even  that  which  the 
Statuary  would  admit  to  be  a  faultless  piece  of  clay,  kneaded  up 
with  blood.  But  that  is  true  Beauty,  which  has  not  only  a  Sub- 
stance, but  a  Spirit, — a  Beauty  that  we  must  intimately  know, 
justly  to  appreciate, — a  Beauty  lighted  up  in  conversation,  where 
the  Mind  shines  as  it  were  through  its  casket,  where,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Poet,  "  the  eloquent  blood  spoke  in  her  Cheeks,  and 
so  distinctly  wrought,  that  we  might  almost  say  her  Body  thought." 
An  order  and  a  mode  of  Beauty  which,  the  more  we  know,  the  more 
we  accuse  ourselves  for  not  having  before  discovered  those  thousand 
Graces  which  bespeak  that  their  owner  has  a  Soul.  This  is  that 
Beauty  which  never  cloys,  possessing  Charms  as  resistless  as  those 
of  the  fascinating  Egyptian,  for  which  Antony  wisely  paid  the  bau 
ble  of  a  World, — a  Beauty  like  the  rising  of  his  own  Italian  Suns, 
always  enchanting,  never  the  same. 


34  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

33eaUt}J.  —  Clarendon. 
TT  was  a  very  proper  answer  to  him  who  asked,  why  any  man 
should  be  delighted  with  Beauty  ?  that  it  was  a  question  that 
none  but  a  blind  man  could  ask ;  since  any  beautiful  object  doth 
so  much  attract  the  sight  of  all  men,  that  it  is  in  no  man's  power 
not  to  be  pleased  with  it. 

SSeailtg.  —  Steele. 
TO  give  pain  is  the  tyranny,  to  make  happy  the  true  empire,  of 

Beauty. 

IBeaUtg.  —  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson. 
"REAUTY  is  the  mark  God  sets  on  virtue.  Every  natural  action  is 
graceful.  Every  heroic  act  is  also  decent,  and  causes  the  place 
and  the  bystanders  to  shine.  When  a  noble  act  is  done — perchance 
in  a  scene  of  great  natural  beauty;  wheu  Leonidas  and  his  three 
hundred  martyrs  consume  one  day  in  dying,  and  the  sun  and  moon 
come  each  and  look  at  them  once  in  the  steep  defile  of  Thermopylae 
when  Arnold  Winkelried,  in  the  high  Alps,  under  the  shadow  of 
the  avalanche,  gathers  in  his  side  a  sheaf  of  Austrian  spears  to 
break  the  line  for  his  comrades;  are  not  these  heroes  entitled  to 
add  the  beauty  of  the  scene  to  the  beauty  of  the  deed? 

SSeautg  of  Nature.— DwigU. 

"THE  beauty  and  splendour  of  the  objects  around  us,  it  is  ever  to 
be  remarked,  are  not  necessary  to  their  existence,  nor  to  what 
we  commonly  intend  their  usefulness.  It  is  therefore  to  be  regarded 
as  a  source  of  pleasure  gratuitously  superinduced  upon  the  general 
nature  of  the  objects  themselves,  and  in  this  light  as  a  testimony 
of  the  Divine  Goodness  peculiarly  affecting. 

becoming  OUr  OlMt  jfttoter.—  Anonymous. 
"pVERYBODY  is  impatient  for  the  time  when  he  shall  be  his 
own  Master;  and  if  coming  of  Age  were  to  make  one  so,  if 
Years  could  indeed  "bring  the  philosophic  Mind/'  it  would  rightly 
be  a  day  of  rejoicing  to  a  whole  household  and  neighbourhood. 
But  too  often  he  who  is  impatient  to  become  his  own  Master, 
when  the  outward  checks  are  removed,  merely  becomes  his  own 
Slave. 

^etjabtOUr.—  La  Bmyere. 
A     COLDNESS    or    an    Incivility  manifested   towards   us    by   a 
Superior,   makes  us  hate  him  ;    but   no  sooner  does   he  con- 
descend to  honour  us  with  a  Salute  or  a  Smile,  than  we  forget 
th<"  former  Indignity,  and  become  perfectly  reconciled  to  him. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  35 

ISnng  Elone.— Byron. 

To  view  alone 
The  fairest  scenes  of  land  and  deep, 
With  None  to  listen  and  reply 
To  thoughts  with  which  my  heart  beat  high, 
Were  irksome. 

Wqz  tillage  i3elte.  —  Cowper. 

JJOW  soft  the  Music  of  those  Village  Bells. 

Falling  at  intervals  upon  the  Ear 
In  Cadence  sweet !  now  dying  all  away, 
Now  pealing  loud  again  and  louder  still, 
Clear  and  sonorous  as  the  gale  comes  on. 
With  easy  force  it  opens  all  the  cells 
Where  Mem'ry  slept. 

33enebolcnce.  —  Shakspeare. 

'Tis  pity,  Bounty  had  not  eyes  behind; 

That  Man  might  ne'er  be  wretched  for  his  Mind. 

UenebulettCe.  —  Mackenzie. 
'THERE  is  no  use  of  money  equal  to  that  of  Beneficence ;   here 
the  enjoyment  grows  on  reflection. 

ISenebolence.  —  Coiton. 

'THERE  is  nothing  that  requires  so  strict  an  Economy  as  our 
Benevolence.  We  should  husband  our  Means  as  the  Agricul- 
turist his  manure,  which  if  he  spread  over  too  large  a  superficies 
produces  no  crop,  if  over  too  small  a  surface,  exuberates  in  rank- 
ness  and  in  weeds. 

Benebolcnce.— Kant. 

TJENEFICENCE  is  a  duty.  He  who  frequently  practises  it,  and 
sees  his  benevolent  intentions  realized,  at  length  comes  really 
to  love  him  to  whom  he  has  done  Good.  When,  therefore,  it  is 
said,  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself,"  it  is  not  meant, 
thou  shalt  love  him  first,  and  do  him  Good  in  consequence  of  that 
Love,  but,  thou  shalt  do  Good  to  thy  neighbour;  and  this  thy 
Beneficence  will  engender  in  thee  that  Love  to  Mankind  which  is 
the  fulness  and  consummation  of  the  Inclination  to  do  Good. 

13cnebolence.  —  Cicero. 

"VTEN  resemble  the  gods  in  nothing  so  much  as  in  doing  Good 
to  their  fellow-creatures. 

H3etteb0lence.—  From  the  French. 
THE  Conqueror  is  regarded  with  awe,  the  wise  Man  commands 
our  esteem;  but  it  is  the  benevolent  Man  who  wins  our  af- 
fections. 

i)2 


36  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

%$tntboUncz.—Howeis. 

'THE  disposition  to  give  a  cup  of  cold  water  to  a  disciple  is  a 
far  nobler  property  than  the  finest  intellect.     Satan  has  a  fine 
intellect,  but  not  the  image  of  God. 

ISenebolenee.  —  Seneca. 

There  will  ever  be  a  place  for  Virtue. 
ISenebolCttX*.  —  Shakspeare. 

For  his  Bounty, 
There  was  no  Winter  in't;  an  Autumn  'twas, 
That  grew  the  more  by  reaping. 

23eu1tftfermettt.  —  Shakspeare. 
'THERE  was  Speech  in  their  Dumbness,  Language  in  their  very 
Gesture  ;  they  looked,  as  they  had  heard  of  a  World  ransomed, 
or  one  destroyed  :  a  notable  passion  of  Wonder  appeared  in  them ; 
but  the  wisest  beholder,  that  knew  no  more  but  seeing,  could  not 
say,  if  the  importance  were  Joy,  or  Sorrow;  but  in  the  extremity 
of  the  one  it  must  needs  be. 

Cf)e  l&ifiU.—  Wayland. 
T'HAT  the  truths  of  the  Bible  have  the  power  of  awakening  an 
intense  moral  feeling  in  Man  under  every  variety  of  character, 
learned,  or  ignorant,  civilized  or  savage;  that  they  make  bad  men 
good,  and  send  a  pulse  of  healthful  feeling  through  all  the  domestic, 
civil,  and  social  relations;  that  they  teach  men  to  love  right,  to 
hate  wrong,  and  to  seek  each  other's  welfare,  as  the  children  of  one 
common  Parent;  that  they  control  the  baleful  passions  of  the  human 
heart,  and  thus  make  men  proficient  in  the  science  of  self-govern- 
ment; and,  finally,  that  they  teach  him  to  aspire  after  a  conformity 
to  a  Being  of  infinite  holiness,  and  fill  him  with  hopes  infinitely 
more  purifying,  more  exalted,  more  suited  to  his  nature,  than  any 
other  which  this  world  has  ever  known,  are  facts  as  incontrovertible 
as  the  laws  of  philosophy,  or  the  demonstrations  of  mathematics. 
IStgOttg.—  Drydm. 
The  good  old  Man,  too  eager  in  Dispute, 
Flew  high;  and  as  his  Christian  Fury  rose, 
Damn'd  all  for  Heretics  who  durst  oppose. 
HWpttg.  —  Feltham. 
QHOW  me  the  Man  who  would  go  to  Heaven  alone  if  he  could, 
and  in  that  Man  I  will  show  you  one  who  will  never  be  ad« 
mitted  into  Heaven. 

iStflOttg*— Prior. 
QOON  their  crude  Notions  with  each  other  fought; 

The  adverse  Sect  denied  what  this  had  taught; 
And  he  at  length  the  ampliest  triumph  gain'd, 
Who  contradicted  what  the  last  maintained. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  37 

13t0grapf)9.  —  Terence. 
"VTY  advice  is,  to  consult  the  Lives  of  other  Men,  as  he  would  a  look- 
ing-glass, and  from  thence  fetch  examples  for  his  own  imitation. 

CJje  Uobe  Of  lo\XiS%.  — Thomson. 
,rTIS  Love  creates  their  Melody,  and  all 

This  waste  of  Music  is  the  Voice  of  Love ; 
That  even  to  Birds,  and  Beasts,  the  tender  arts 
Of  pleasing  teaches.      Hence  the  glossy  kind 
Try  every  winning  way  inventive  Love 
Can  dictate,  and  in  courtship  to  their  mates 
Pour  forth  their  little  souls. 

Mtfy.  —  Charron. 
rrHOSE  who  have  nothing  else  to  recommend  them  to  the  respect 
of  others,  but  only  their  Blood,  cry  it  up  at  a  great  rate,  and 
have  their  mouths  perpetually  full  of  it.  They  swell  and  vapour, 
and  you  are  sure  to  hear  of  their  families  and  relations  every  third 
word.  By  this  mark  they  commonly  distinguish  themselves;  you 
may  depend  upon  it  there  is  no  good  bottom,  nothing  of  true  worth 
of  their  own  when  they  insist  so  much,  and  set  their  credit  upon 
that  of  others. 

Uirtf).  —  Lord  Greville. 
TyHEN  real  Nobleness  accompanies  that  imaginary  one  of  Birth, 
the  imaginary  seems  to  mix  with  real,  and  becomes  real  too. 

Cf)e   13tttf)to.  —  Young. 

Alas  !  this  Day 
First  gave  me  Birth,  and  (which  is  strange  to  tell) 
The  Fates  e'er  since,  as  watching  its  return, 
Have  caught  it  as  it  flew,  and  mark'd  it  deep 
With  something  great;  extremes  of  good  or  ill. 

ISUxfimzm.— Milton. 

Thus  with  the  year 
Seasons  return,  but  not  to  me  returns 
Day,  or  the  sweet  approach  of  Ev'n  or  Morn, 
Or  sight  of  vernal  Bloom,  or  summer's  Rose, 
Or  Flocks,  or  Herds,  or  human  Face  divine; 
But  Cloud  instead,  and  ever-during  Dark, 
Surrounds  me,  from  the  cheerful  ways  of  Men 
Cut  off,  and  for  the  Book  of  Knowledge  fair 
Presented  with  a  universal  Blank 
Of  Nature's  Works,  to  me  expung'd  and  ras'd, 
And  Wisdom  at  one  entrance  quite  shut  out. 


38  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

^BUn^ntsz.— Milton. 

r\  DARK,  dark,  dark,  amid  the  blaze  of  Noon, 

Irrevocably  dark,  total  Eclipse 
Without  all  hope  of  Day  ! 

0  first  created  Beam,  and  thou  great  Word, 
Let  there  be  Light,  and  Light  was  over  all; 

*Why  am  I  thus  bereav'd  thy  prime  decree? 

WlOfiti.  — Shakspeare. 
HiGH-stomach'.d  are  they  both,  and  full  of  Ire, 
In  rage  deaf  as  the  Sea,  hasty  as  Fire. 

3Slimtne!S0.  —  Shakspeare. 
1TE  speaks  home;  you  may  relish  him  more  in  the  Soldier,  than 
in  the  Scholar. 

iSlUSfjhtg*  —  Spenser. 
HPHE  doubtful  Mayd,  seeing  herself  descryde, 

Was  all  abasht,  and  her  pure  Yvory 
Into  a  clear  Carnation  suddeine  dyde; 
As  fayre  Aurora  rysing  hastily 
Doth  by  her  Blushing  tell  that  she  did  lye 
All  night  in  old  Tithonus'  frozen  bed, 
Whereof  she  seemes  ashamed  inwardly. 

!3lUSf)^0»  —  Scott. 
With  every  change  his  Features  play'd, 
As  Aspens  show  the  Light  and  Shade. 

Coasting.—  Young. 
We  rise  in  Glory,  as  we  sink  in  Pride ; 
Where  Boasting  ends,  there  Dignity  begins. 

13ua!3tmg.  —  Shakspeare. 
Conceit,  more  rich  in  Matter  than  in  Words, 
Brags  of  his  Substance,  not  of  Ornament: 
They  are  but  Beggars  that  can  count  their  Worth. 

13oaiStmg.  —  Shakspeare. 

I'll  turn  two  mincing  steps 
Into  a  manly  stride  :  and  speak  of  Frays 
Like  a  fine  bragging  Youth :  and  tell  quaint  Lies, 
How  honourable  Ladies  sought  my  Love, 
Which  I  denying  they  fell  sick  and  died : 

1  could  not  do  with  all: — then  I  will  repent, 
And  wish  for  all  that,  that  I  had  not  kill'd  them : 
And  twenty  of  these  puny  Lies  I'll  tell, 

That  Men  shall  swear,  I  have  discontinued  school 
Above  a  twelvemonth. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  39 

ISoaStmg.  —  Shakspeare. 

Who  knows  himself  a  Braggart, 
Let  him  fear  this;  for  it  will  come  to  pass, 
That  every  Braggart  shall  be  found  an  Ass. 

3300fe'iHakmg.  —  Edward  H.  Everett. 
TT  is  remarkable  that  many  of  the  best  Books  of  all  sorts  have 
been  written  by  persons  who,  at  the  time  of  writing  them,  had 
no  intention  of  becoming  authors.  Indeed,  with  slight  inclination 
to  systemize  and  exaggerate,  one  might  be  almost  tempted  to  main- 
tain the  position — however  paradoxical  it  may  at  the  first  blush 
appear — that  no  good  Book  can  be  written  in  any  other  way;  that 
the  only  literature  of  any  value  is  that  which  grows  indirectly  out 
of  the  real  action  of  society,  intended  directly  to  affect  some  other 
purpose;  and  that  when  a  man  sits  doggedly  in  his  study  and 
says  to  himself  "I  mean  to  write  a  good  Book"  it  is  certain,  from 
the  necessity  of  the  case,  that  the  result  will  be  a  bad  one. 

iftaQtte,— FuUer. 

T'HOU  mayst  as  well  expect  to  grow  stronger  by  always  eating  as 
wiser  by  always  reading.  Too  much  overcharges  Nature,  and 
turns  more  into  disease  than  nourishment.  'Tis  thought  and  diges- 
tion which  makes  Books  serviceable,  and  gives  health  and  vigour  to 
the  mind. 

Uoofc0.—  Fuller. 

T'O  divert  at  any  time  a  troublesome  fancy,  run  to  thy  Books : 
they  presently  fix  thee  to  them,  and  drive  the  other  out  of  thy 
thoughts.     They  always  receive  thee  with  the  same  kindness. 

15  o  0  fcS .  —  Tom  Brown. 
"PLAYS  and  Romances  sell  as  well  as  Books  of  Devotion;  but 
with  this  difference ;  more  people  read  the  former  than  buy 
them ;  and  more  buy  the  latter  than  read  them. 

iUOOftj*.— Anon. 

T  HAVE  ever  gained  the- most  profit,  and  the  most  pleasure  also, 
from  the  Books  which  have  made  me  think  the  most;  and,  wheu 
the  difficulties  have  once  been  overcome,  these  are  the  Books 
which  have  struck  the  deepest  root,  not  only  in  my  memory  and 
understanding,  but  likewise  in  my  affections. 

^OOftJS.— Hare. 

"HOOKS,  as  Dryden  has  aptly  termed  them,  are  spectacles  to  read 
Nature.  Eschylus  and  Aristotle,  Shakspeare  and  Bacon,  are 
Priests  who  preach  and  expound  the  mysteries  of  Man  and  the 
Universe.  They  teach  us  to  understand  and  feel  what  we  see,  to 
decipher  and  syllable  the  hieroglyphics  of  the  senses. 


40  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

1300kS Joiner  tana. 

Books,  like  Friends,  should  be  few  and  well  chosen. 

|8O0fcj5.  —  Milton. 

AS  good  almost  kill  a  Man  as  kill  a  good  Book.     Many  a  man 
lives  a  burden  to  the  Earth  ;  but  a  good  Book  is  the  precious 
Life-blood  of  a  Master-spirit,  embalmed  and  treasured  up  on  pur- 
pose, to  a  life  beyond  life. 

BOOKS.  —  Clarendon. 
fTE  who  loves  not  Books  before  he  comes  to  thirty  years  of  age, 
will  hardly  love  them  enough  afterward  to  understand  them. 

13OOK0.  —  Colton. 
"\TANY  Books  require  no  thought  from  those  who  read  them,  and 
for  a  very  simple  reason ; — they  made  no  such  demand  upon 
those  who  wrote  them.  Those  Works,  therefore,  are  the  most  valu- 
able, that  set  our  thinking  faculties  in  the  fullest  operation.  For 
as  the  solar  light  calls  forth  all  the  latent  powers  and  dormant 
principles  of  vegetation  contained  in  the  kernel,  but  which,  without 
such  a  stimulus,  would  neither  have  struck  root  downward,  nor 
borne  fruit  upward,  so  it  is  with  the  light  that  is  intellectual;  it 
calls  forth  and  awakens  into  energy  those  latent  principles  of 
thought  in  the  minds  of  others,  which,  without  this  stimulus,  reflec- 
tion would  not  have  matured,  nor  examination  improved,  nor  action 
embodied. 

BOOKS.  —  Shenstone. 
*Y\7TIEN  self-interest  inclines  a  man  to  print,  he  should  consider 
that  the  purchaser  expects  a  penny-worth  for  his  penny,  and 
has  reason  to  asperse  his  honesty  if  he  finds  himself  deceived;  also, 
that  it  is  possible  to  publish  a  Book  of  no  value,  which  is  too  fre- 
quently the  product  of  such  mercenary  people. 

BOOKS.  —  Channing. 
CtOVf  be  thanked  for  Books.  They  are  the  voices  of  the  distant 
and  the  dead,  and  make  us  heirs  of  the  spiritual  life  of  past 
ages.  Books  are  the  true  levellers.  They  give  to  all,  who  will 
faithfully  use  them,  the  society,  the  spiritual  presence  of  the  best 
and  greatest  of  our  race.  No  matter  how  poor  I  am.  No  matter 
though  the  prosperous  of  my  own  time  will  not  enter  my  obscure 
dwelling.  If  the  sacred  writers  will  enter  and  take  up  their  abode 
under  my  roof,  if  Milton  will  cross  my  threshold  to  sing  to  me  of 
Paradise,  and  Shakspeare  to  open  to  me  the  worlds  of  imagination 
and  the  workings  of  the  human  heart,  and  Franklin  to  enrich  me 
with  his  practical  wisdom,  I  shall  not  pine  for  want  of  intellectual 
companionship,  and  I  may  become  a  cultivated  man  though  ex- 
cluded from  what  is  called  the  best  society  in  the  place  where  I  live. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  41 


BfJCfe  —  Lord  Grecille. 
HTHE  man  who  only  relates  what  he  has  heard  or  read,  or  talks  of 
sensible  men  and  sensible  Books  in  general  terms,  or  of  cele- 
brated passages  in  celebrated  Authors,  may  talk  about  sense ;  but 
he  alone,  who  speaks  the  sentiments  that  arise  from  the  force  of 
his  own  mind  employed  upon  the  subjects  before  him,  can  talk 
sense. 

ISfJfjItS.  —  Longfellow. 
A  ["ANT  readers  judge  of  the  power  of  a  Book  by  the  shock  it  gives 
their  feelings — as  some  savage  tribes  determine  the  power  of 
muskets  by  their  recoil;  that  being  considered  best  which   fairly 
prostrates  the  purchaser. 

330CrclMTtg.  —  Shakspeare. 
Neither  a  Borrower,  nor  a  Lender  be  : 
For  loan  oft  loses  both  itself  and  friend  ; 
And  borrowing  dulls  the  edge  of  husbandry. 

WtyZ  130ttle.—  Johnson. 
TN  the  Bottle  discontent  seeks  for  comfort,  cowardice  for  courage, 
and  bashfulness  for  confidence. 

Cf)e  Braggart.  —  Shakspeare. 

Here's  a  Stay, 
That  shakes  the  rotten  carcase  of  old  Death 
Out  of  his  rags  !     Here's  a  large  Mouth,  indeed, 
That  spits  forth  Death,  and  Mountains,  Hocks  and  Seas; 
Talk  as  familiarly  of  roaring  Lions, 
As  Maids  of  thirteen  do  of  Puppy -Dogs  ! 
What  Cannoneer  begot  this  lusty  Blood  ? 
He  speaks  plain  Cannon,  Fire,  and  Smoke,  and  Bounce ; 
He  gives  the  Bastinado  with  his  Tongue; 
Our  ears  are  cudgel'd. 

$3rtUtanCg.  —  Longfellow. 
YlrITH  many  readers  Brilliancy  of  style  passes  for  affluence  of 
thought;  they  mistake  buttercups  in  the  grass  for  immensura- 
ble  gold  mines  under  the  ground. 

ButOung.—  Kett. 

"VKVER  build  after  you  are  five-and-forty ;  have  five  years  income 
in  hand  before  you  lay  a  Brick,  and  always  calculate  the  expense 
at  double  the  estimate. 

13u0ine0S.  —  Saville. 
A    MAN  who  cannot  mind  his  own  Business,  is  not  to  be  trusted 
with  the  King's. 


42  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

^UStneiSS*  —  Steele. 
rF0  men  addicted  to  delights,  Business  is  an  interruption  ;  to 
such  as  are  cold  to  delights,  Business  is  an  entertainment. 
For  which  reason  it  was  said  to  one  who  commended  a  dull  man 
for  his  Application,  " No  thanks  to  him;  if  he  had  no  Business, 
he  would  have  nothing  to  do." 

$3  US  tit  eSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
To  Business  that  we  love,  we  rise  betime, 
And  go  to  it  with  delight. 

Justness*  —  Swift, 

"VfEN  of  great  parts  are  often  unfortunate  in  the  management 
of  public  Business,  because   they  are   apt  to  go  out  of  the 
common  road  by  the  quickness  of  their  imagination. 

$3ugtng*  —  Franklin. 
RUY  what  thou  hast  no  need  of,  and  ere  long  thou  shalt  sell  thy 
necessaries. 

(ftallmg.  —  Shakspeare. 
Virtue's  office  never  breaks  men's  troth. 

(Mitt. — Moore. 
.  TTOW  calm,  how  beautiful  comes  on 

The  stilly  Hour,  when  Storms  are  gone ; 
When  warring  Winds  have  died  away, 
And  Clouds,  beneath  the  glancing  ray, 
Melt  off,  and  leave  the  Land  and  Sea 
Sleeping  in  bright  Tranquillity, — 
When  the  blue  Waters  rise  and  fall, 
In  sleepy  Sunshine  mantling  all ; 
And  ev'n  that  Swell  the  Tempest  leaves, 
Is  like  the  full  and  silent  heaves 
Of  Lovers'  Hearts,  when  newly  blest, 
Too  newly  to  be  quite  at  rest ! 

(2*  aim.  —  Moore. 
"'TWAS  one  of  those  ambrosial  eves 

A  day  of  storm  so  often  leaves 
At  its  calm  setting — when  the  West 
Opens  her  golden  Bowers  of  Rest, 
And  a  moist  radiance  from  the  skies 
Shoots  trembling  down,  as  from  the  eyes 
Of  some  meek  penitent,  whose  last 
Bright  hours  atone  for  dark  ones  past, 
And  whose  sweet  tears,  o'er  wrong  forgiven, 
Shine,  as  they  fall  with  light  from  Heaven ! 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND   OLD.  43 

(Mumng.  —  Shakspeare. 
DE  thou  as  chaste  as  ice,  as  pure  as  snow,  thou  shalt  not  escape 
Calumny. 

(tfantlOUr.  —  Shakspeare. 

I  hold  it  cowardice, 
To  rest  mistrustful  where  a  noble  Heart 
Hath  pawn'd  an  open  Hand  in  sign  of  Love. 
(Eant— Burns. 
T  EARN  three-mile  Pray'rs,  an'  half-mile  Graces, 

Wi'  weel-spread  Looves,  an'  lang  wrv  Faces; 
Grunt  up  a  solemn,  lengthened  Groan, 
And  damn  a*  parties  but  your  own ; 
I'll  warrant  then,  ye're  nae  Deceiver, 
A  steady,  sturdy,  staunch  Believer. 

(Kaitt.  —  Sliakspearc. 
'Tis  too  much  proved, — that,  with  Devotion's  Visage, 
And  pious  Action,  we  do  sugar  o'er 
The  Devil  himself. 

<&a$tiQVl8nt$B.—  ChesterfeM. 
A   VULGAR  Man  is  captious  and  jealous ;  eager  and  impetuous 
about  trifles.     He  suspects  himself  to  be  slighted,  and  thinks 
every  thing  that  is  said  meant  at  him. 

(B*clt£.  —  Shakspeare. 
QARE  keeps  his  Watch  in  every  old  Man's  eye, 
And  where  Care  lodges,  Sleep  will  never  lie ; 
But  where  unbruised  Youth  with  unstufF'd  brain 
Doth  couch  his  limbs,  there  golden  Sleep  doth  reign. 

(KatC.  —  Spenser. 
TJUDE  was  his  garment,  and  to  rags  all  rent, 

Ne  better  had  he,  ne  for  better  car'd ; 
With  blistred  hands  emongst  the  cinders  brent, 
And  fingers  filthie,  with  long  nayles  unpar'd, 
Right  fit  to  rend  the  food  on  which  he  far'd  : 
His  name  was  Care ;  a  blacksmith  by  his  trade, 
That  neither  day  nor  night  from  working  spar'd, 
But  to  small  purpose  yron  wedges  made : 
Those  be  unquiet  thoughts  that  careful  Minds  invade 

(KtW0.  —  Shakspeare. 
Q  POLISH'D  Perturbation  !  golden  Care ! 

That  keep'st  the  ports  of  Slumber  open  wide 
To  many  a  watchful  night ! — he  sleeps  with  't  now, 
Yet  not  so  sound,  and  half  so  deeply  sweet, 
As  he,  whose  brow,  with  homely  biggin  bound, 
Snores  out  the  watch  of  Night. 
E 


But 


G] 


44  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

date*  —  Burns. 

human  bodies  are  sic  fools, 
For  a'  their  colleges  and  schools, 
That  when  nae  real  ills  perplex  them, 
They  mak  enow  themscls  to  vex  them. 

(toe*  —  Shakspeare. 
Care  is  no  cure,  but  rather  corrosive, 
For  things  that  are  not  to  be  remedied. 

Ittnglg  (ftareS,  —  Shakspeare. 
IVES  not  the  hawthorn  bush  a  sweeter  shade 
To  shepherds,  looking  on  their  silly  sheep, 
Than  doth  a  rich  embroider'd  canopy 
To  Kings,  that  fear  their  subjects'  treachery  ? 
0,  yes,  it  doth;  a  thousand-fold  it  doth. 

The  shepherd's  homely  curds, 
His  cold  thin  drink  out  of  his  leather  bottle, 
His  wonted  sleep  under  a  fresh  tree's  shade, 
All  which  secure  and  sweetly  he  enjoys, 
Is  far  beyond  a  Prince's  delicates, 
His  viands  sparkling  in  a  golden  cup, 
His  body  couched  in  a  curious  bed, 
When  Care,  Mistrust,  and  Treason,  wait  on  him. 

(ftause  of  all  (Causes.  —  shakspeare. 

TTE  that  of  greatest  works  is  Finisher 

Oft  does  them  by  the  weakest  minister : 
So  Holy  Writ  in  babes  hath  judgment  shown, 
When  judges  have  been  babes.     Great  floods  have  flown 
From  simple  sources  ;  and  great  seas  have  dried, 
When  miracles  have  by  the  greatest  been  denied. 
Oft  Expectation  fails,  and  most  oft  there 
Where  most  it  promises;  and  oft  it  hits, 
Where  Hope  is  coldest,  and  Despair  most  sits. 
It  is  not  so  with  Him  that  all  things  knows, 
As  'tis  with  us  that  square  our  guess  by  shows  : 
But  most  it  is  presumptuous  in  us,  when 
The  help  of  Heaven  we  count  the  act  of  Men. 

(£aU00  atttl  IBfoCt.  —  Shakspeare. 
"JV-TAD  let  us  grant  him  then  ;  and  now  remains, 

That  we  find  out  the  Cause  of  this  Effect; 
Or,  rather  say,  the  Cause  of  this  Defect ; 
For  this  Effect,  defective,  comes  by  Cause. 

(&a\lti(m.—PubUus  Syrius. 
It  is  a  good  thing  to  learn  Caution  by  the  misfortunes  of  others. 


OR,   THING  S   NEW  AXD    OLD.  45 

(SmtiOtt.  —  Shakspeare. 

Things,  done  well, 
And  with  a  Care,  exempt  themselves  from  fear  : 
Things,  done  without  Example,  in  their  issue 
Are  to  be  fear'd. 

©eiesttart  streets — Cicero. 

f  PERCEIVE  you  contemplate  the  seat  and  habitation  of  men  ; 
which,  if  it  appears  as  little  to  you  as  it  really  is,  fix  you  eyes 
perpetually  upon  heavenly  Objects,  and  despise  earthly. 

(&tnmxe.—Pope. 

TVTE  ought  in  humanity  no  more  to  despise  a  man  for  the  misfor- 
tunes of  the  mind  than  for  those  of  the  body,  when  they  arc 
such  as  he  cannot  help. 

(KenSUre.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
"pEW  persons  have  sufficient  wisdom  to  prefer  Censure  which  is 
useful  to  them,  to  Praise  which  deceives  them. 

©ensure.  —  Young. 
TTORACE  appears  in  good  humour  while  he  censures,  and  there- 
fore his  Censure  has  the  more  weight,  as  supposed  to  proceed 
from  Judgment,  not  from  Passion. 

(Ceremony.  —  Shakspeare. 
Ceremony 
"Was  devised  at  first  to  set  a  gloss 
On  faint  deeds,  hollow  welcomes, 
But  where  there  is  true  friendship,  there  needs  none. 

©eremonj}.— Rare. 

"pORMS  and  Regularity  of  Proceeding,  if  they  are  not  justice,  par- 
take much  of  the  nature  of  justice,  which,  in  its  highest  sense, 
is  the  spirit  of  distributive  Order. 

(Eextmnxu).  — SeMen. 

(CEREMONY  keeps  up  things ;  'tis  like  a  penny  glass  to  a  rich 
spirit,  or  some  excellent  water;  without  it  the  water  were  spilt, 
and  the  spirit  lost. 

©erememp.—  Steele. 

A  S  Ceremony  is  the  invention  of  wise  men  to  keep  fools  at  a  dis- 
tance, so  Good-breeding  is  an  expedient  to  make  fools  and  wise- 
men  equals. 

©eremOUP.  —  Shakspeare. 
f\  HARD  condition,  and  twin-born  with  greatness, 

Subject  to  breath  of  ev'ry  fool,  whose  sense 
No  more  can  feel  but  his  own  wringing. 
What  infinite  heart-ease  must  Kings  neglect, 


16  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

That  private  Men  enjoy?  and  what  have  Kings, 
That  Privates  have  not  too,  save  Ceremony? 

Save  geu'ral  Ceremony? 

And  what  art  thou,  thou  idol  Ceremony? 

"What  kind  of  God  art  thou?  that  suffer'st  more 

Of  mortal  griefs,  than  do  thy  worshippers. 

What  are  thy  rents?  what  are  thy  comings-in? 

O  Ceremony,  show  me  but  thy  worth : 

What  is  thy  toll,  0  Adoration? 

Art  thou  aught  else  but  Place,  Degree  and  Form, 

Creating  awe  and  fear  in  other  men? 

"Wherein  thou  art  less  happy,  being  fear'd, 

Than  they  in  fearing. 

What  drink'st  thou  oft,  instead  of  Homage  sweet, 

But  poison'd  Flatt'ry?     0  be  sick,  great  Greatness, 

And  bid  thy  Ceremony  give  thee  cure. 

Think'st  thou,  the  fiery  fever  will  go  out 

With  Titles  blown  from  Adulation  ? 

Will  it  give  place  to  flexure  and  low  bending? 

Can'st  thou,  when  thou  command'st  the  beggar's  knee, 

Command  the  health  of  it?  no,  thou  proud  dream, 

That  pkiyst  so  subtly  with  a  King's  repose. 

(£eXtmfm$.  —  Chesterfield. 
A  LL  Ceremonies  are  in  themselves  very  silly  things:  but  yet  a 
man  of  the  world  should  know  them.  They  are  the  outworks 
of  manners  and  decency,  which  would  be  too  often  broken  in  upon, 
if  it  were  not  for  that  defence,  which  keeps  the  enemy  at  a  proper 
distance.  It  is  for  that  reason  that  I  always  treat  fools  and  cox- 
combs with  great  Ceremony;  true  Good-breeding  not  being  a  suffi- 
cient barrier  against  them. 

(EfjattCe.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
rrHE  generality  of  men  have,  like  plants,  latent  properties,  which 
Chance  brings  to  light. 

<£JjattCe.  —  Terence. 
T-TOW  often  events,  by  Chance,  and  unexpectedly  come  to  pass, 
which  you  had  not  dared  even  to  hope  for ! 

i&fjattge*—  Johnson. 

QUCH  are  the  vicissitudes  of  the  World,  through  all  its  parts, 
that  day  and  night,  labour  and  rest,  hurry  and  retirement,  en- 
dear each  other:  such  are  the  Changes  that  keep  the  mind  in 
action:  we  desire,  we  pursue,  we  obtain,  we  are  satiated;  we  de- 
sire something  else,  and  begin  a  new  pursuit. 


OF,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  47 

<fti)a00.  —  Shakspeaxe. 

Let  Order  die, 
And  let  this  World  no  longer  be  a  stage, 
To  feed  contention  in  a  lingering  act; 
But  let  one  spirit  of  the  first-born  Cain 
Reign  in  all  bosoms,  that  each  heart  being  set 
On  bloody  courses,  the  rude  scene  may  end, 
And  Darkness  be  the  burier  of  the  Dead ! 

Character.  —  Shakspeare. 
I-IlS  real  Habitude  gave  life  and  grace 
To  appertainings  and  to  ornament, 
Accomplish'd  in  himself,  not  in  his  case : 
All  aids  themselves  made  fairer  by  their  place; 
Came  for  additions,  yet  their  purpos'd  trim 
Piec'd  not  his  grace,  but  were  all  grae'd  by  him. 
So  on  the  tip  of  his  subduing  tongue 
All  kinds  of  arguments  and  question  deep, 
All  replication  prompt,  and  reason  strong, 
For  his  advantage  still  did  wake  and  sleep : 
To  make  the  weeper  laugh,  the  laugher  weep, 
He  had  the  dialect  and  different  skill, 
Catching  all  passions  in  his  craft  of  will; 
That  he  did  in  the  general  bosom  reign 
Of  young,  of  old;  and  sexes  both  enchanted. 

(EijcUaCter.  —  Sir  William  Temple. 
rTHE  best  rules  to  form  a  young  Man  are,  to  talk  little,  to  hear 
much,  to  reflect  alone  upon  what  has  passed  in  company,  to  dis- 
trust one's  own  opinions,  and  value  others  that  deserve  it. 

<&f)axatttt.—Mer1cel 

ORDINARY  people  regard  a  man  of  a  certain  force  and  inflexi- 
bility of  Character  as  they  do  a  lion.  They  look  at  him  with 
a  sort  of  wonder — perhaps  they  admire  him;  but  they  will  on  no 
account  house  with  him.  The  lap-dog,  who  wags  his  tail  and  licks 
the  hand,  and  cringes  at  the  nod  of  every  stranger,  is  a  much  more 
acceptable  companion  to  them. 

Character.  —  Chesterfield. 
TyHEN  upon  a  trial  a  man  calls  witnesses  to  his  Character,  and 
those  witnesses  only  say,  that  they  never  heard,  nor  do  not 
know  any  thing  ill  of  him,  it  intimates  at  best  a  neutral  and  in- 
significant Character. 

Character.  —  Lavater. 
A  CTIONS,  looks,  words,  steps,  form  the  alphabet  by  which  you 
may  spell  Characters. 

e2 


4<3  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 


w 


([tfjatatUX.  —  Fitzosbome. 
^rEliE  I  to  make  trial  of  an j  person's  qualifications  for  an  union 
of  so  much  delicacy,  there  is  no  part  of  his  conduct  I  would 
sooner  single  out,  than  to  observe  him  in  his  resentments.  And  this 
not  upon  the  maxim  frequently  advanced,  "  that  the  best  friends 
make  the  bitterest  enemies;"  but  on  the  contrary,  because  I  am 
persuaded  that  he  who  is  capable  of  being  a  bitter  enemy,  can 
never  possess  the  necessary  virtues  that  constitute  a  true  friend. 

(EfjaraCter.  —  Shakspeare. 
He  sits  'rnongst  men,  like  a  descended  God  : 
He  hath  a  kind  of  honour  sets  him  off, 
More  than  a  mortal  seeming. 

Character.  —  Shakspeare. 
HPHERE  are  a  sort  of  men,  whose  visages 

Do  cream  and  mantle  like  a  standing  pond ; 
And  do  a  wilful  stillness  entertain, 
With  purpose  to  be  dress'd  in  an  opinion 
Of  wisdom,  gravity,  profound  conceit ; 
As  who  should  say,  "  I  am  Sir  Oracle, 
And,  when  I  ope  my  lips,  let  no  dog  bark !" 

I  do  know  of  these, 
That  therefore  only  are  reputed  wise, 
For  saying  nothing;  who,  I  am  very  sure, 
If  they  should  speak,  would  almost  damn  those  ears, 
Which,  hearing  them,  would  call  their  brothers  fools. 

(CJjataCtet.  —  Shakspeare. 
Thou  art  full  of  love  and  honesty, 
And  weigh'st  thy  words  before  thou  giv'st  them  breath, — 
Therefore  these  stops  of  thine  fright  me  the  more : 
For  such  things,  in  a  false,  disloyal  knave, 
Are  tricks  of  custom;  but,  in  a  man  that's  just, 
They  are  close  denotements  working  from  the  heart, 
That  passion  cannot  rule. 

<&f)ara.Ctet.  —  Shakspeare. 
1  WILL  no  more  trust  him  when  he  leers,  than  I  will  a  ser- 
pent when  he  hisses:  he  will  spend  his  mouth,  and  promise, 
like  Brabler  the  hound :  but  when  he  performs,  astronomers  fore- 
tell it:  it  is  prodigious,  there  will  come  some  change;  the  sun 
borrows  of  the  moon,  when  he  keeps  his  word. 

<£\)  atactet*.  —  Bruyere. 
T'HERE  are  peculiar  ways  in  men,  which  discover  what  they  are 
through  the  most  subtle  feints  and  closest  disguises 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  49 

(Character.  —  Shakspeare. 
"^"ATURE  hath  fram'd  strange  fellows  in  her  time  : 

Some,  that  will  evermore  peep  through  their  eyes, 
And  laugh,  like  parrots,  at  a  bagpiper; 
And  other  of  such  vinegar  aspect, 
That  they'll  not  show  their  teeth  in  way  of  smile, 
Though  Nestor  swear  the  jest  be  laughable. 

&i&XatUX.  —  Skakspeare. 

0,  he's  as  tedious 
As  is  a  tir'd  horse,  a  railing  wife ; 
Worse  than  a  smoky  house  : — I  had  rather  live 
With  cheese  and  garlic,  in  a  windmill,  far, 
Than  feed  on  cates,  and  have  him  talk  to  me, 
In  any  summer-house  in  Christendom. 

(&t)aZatm.—Lavater. 
VOU  may  depend  upon  it  that  he  is  a  good  man  whose  intimate 
friends  are  all  good. 

<&§UXMtttX.— Skakspeare. 

J>EPUTATIOX,  reputation,   reputation  !      0,   I   have  lost  my 
reputation  !      I  have  lost  the  immortal  part  of  myself;  and 
what  remains  is  bestial. 

(&\)ZKMtX.—Shakspeare. 
JJEPUT ATION ;— oft  got  without  merit,  and  lost  without  de- 
serving. 

(Character.  —  Socrates. 
THE  way  to  gain  a  good  Reputation  is  to  endeavour  to  be  what 
you  desire  to  appear. 

Character,  —  Novaiis. 

Character  is  a  perfectly  educated  will. 

<&f)ataCtet.  —Shakspeare. 

This  is  he 
That  kiss'd  away  his  hand  in  courtesy; 
This  is  the  ape  of  form,  monsieur  the  nice, 
That,  when  he  plays  at  tables,  chides  the  dice 
In  honourable  terms;  nay,  he  can  sing 
A  mean  most  meanly ;  and  in  ushering, 
Mend  him  who  can;  the  ladies  call  him,  sweet; 
The  stairs  as  he  treads  on  them  kiss  his  feet. 

(Character.  —  Shakspeare. 
TE  will  steal  himself  into  a  man's  favor,  and,  for  a  week,  escape 
a  ^rrcat  deal  of  discoveries;  but  when  you  find  him  out,  you 
nave  him  ever  after. 


50  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

character.  —  coiton. 

'THE  two  most  precious  things  this  side  the  grave  are  our 
Reputation  and  our  Life.  But  it  is  to  be  lamented  that  the 
most  contemptible  whisper  may  deprive  us  of  the  one,  and  the 
weakest  weapon  of  the  other.  A  wise  man,  therefore,  will  be 
more  anxious  to  deserve  a  fair  name  than  to  possess  it,  and  this 
will  teach  him  so  to  live,  as  not  to  be  afraid  to  die. 

(Character.  —  Shahspeare. 
'THIS  fellow's  wise  enough  to  play  the  fool ; 
And,  to  do  that  well,  craves  a  kind  of  wit : 
He  must  observe  their  mood  on  whom  he  jests, 
The  quality  of  persons  and  the  time  ; 
And,  like  the  haggard,  check  at  every  feather 
That  comes  before  his  eye.     This  is  a  practice, 
As  full  of  labour  as  a  wise  man's  art; 
For  folly,  that  he  wisely  shows,  is  fit ; 
But  wise  men,  folly  fallen,  quite  taint  their  wit. 

Character.— Fuller. 

rj-ET  and  preserve  a  good  name,  if  it  were  but  for  the  public 
service :  for  one  of  a  deserved  Reputation  hath  oftentimes  an 
opportunity  to  do  that  good,  which  another  cannot  that  wants  it. 
And  he  may  practise  it  with  more  security  and  success. 

(EjjataCter.  —  Shahspeare. 
HTHOU  wilt  quarrel  with  a  man  that  hath  a  hair  more,  or  a  hair 
less,  in  his  beard  than  thou  hast.  Thou  wilt  quarrel  with  a 
man  for  cracking  nuts,  having  no  other  reason  but  because  thou 
hast  hazel  eyes ;  what  eye,  but  such  an  eye,  would  spy  out  such  a 
quarrel  ?     Thy  head  is  as  full  of  quarrels,  as  an  egg  is  full  of  meat. 

(Ejaracter.  —  Lavater. 

A  VOID  connecting  yourself  with  Characters  whose  good  and  bad 
sides  are  unmixed,  and  have  not  fermented  together ;  they 
resemble  vials  of  vinegar  and  oil ;  or  palettes  set  with  colours ;  they 
are  either  excellent  at  home  and  intolerable  abroad,  or  insufferable 
within  doors  and  excellent  in  public  :  they  are  unfit  for  friendship 
merely  because  their  stamina,  their  ingredients  of  character  are  too 
single,  too  much  apart;  let  them  be  finely  ground  up  with  each 
other,  and  they  will  be  incomparable. 

(Eijatacttu— Coiton. 

T)UKE  Chartres  used  to  boast  that  no  man  could  have  less  real 
value  for  Character  than  himself,  yet  he  would  gladly  give 
twenty  thousand  pounds  for  a  good  one,  because  he  could  immedi- 
ately make  double  that  sum  by  means  of  it. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND     OLD.  51 

Character.  —  Addison. 
T>EOPLE  of  gloomy,  uncheerful  imaginations,  or  of  envious, 
malignant  tempers,  whatever  kind  of  life  they  are  engaged  in, 
will  discover  their  natural  tincture  of  mind  in  all  their  thoughts, 
words,  and  actions.  As  the  finest  wines  have  often  the  taste  of  the 
soil,  so  even  the  most  religious  thoughts  often  draw  something 
that  is  particular  from  the  constitution  of  the  mind  in  which  they 
arise.  When  folly  or  superstition  strikes  in  with  this  natural  de- 
pravity of  temper,  it  is  not  in  the  power  even  of  religion  itself  to 
preserve  the  Character  of  the  person  who  is  possessed  with  it  from 
appearing  highly  absurd  and  ridiculous. 

<£f)atacter.  —  Shakspeare. 
HPHIS  man  hath  robbed  many  beasts  of  their  particular  additions; 
he  is  as  valiant  as  a  lion,  churlish  as  a  bear,  slow  as  the  ele- 
phant :  a  man,  into  whom  nature  hath  so  crowded  humours,  that 
his  valour  is  crushed  into  folly,  his  folly  sauced  with  discretion  : 
there  is  no  man  hath  a  virtue,  that  he  hath  not  a  glimpse  of;  nor 
any  man  an  attaint,  but  he  carries  some  stain  of  it :  he  is  me- 
lancholy without  cause,  and  merry  against  the  hair :  he  hath  the 
joints  of  every  thing;  but  every  thing  so  out  of  joint,  that  he  is  a 
gouty  Briareus,  many  hands  and  no  use  ;  or  purblind  Argus,  all 
eyes  and  no  sight. 

(£IjataCteC.  —  Shakspeare. 

Spare  in  diet; 
Free  from  gross  passion,  or  of  mirth,  or  anger  ; 
Constant  in  spirit,  not  swerving  with  the  blood; 
Garnish'd  and  deck'd  with  modest  compliment; 
Not  working  with  the  eye,  without  the  ear, 
And,  but  in  purged  judgment,  trusting  neither. 

(&f)axacttx.—A7}cm. 

MANY  persons  carry  about  their  Characters  in  their  hands;  not 
a  few  under  their  feet. 

Character.  —  Shakspeare. 
T>ETNG  not  propp'd  by  ancestry,  (whose  grace 
Chalks  successors  their  way  J  neither  allied 
To  eminent  assistants,  but  spider-like, 
Out  of  his  self-drawing  web,  he  gives  us  note, 
The  force  of  his  own  merit  makes  his  way  ; 
A  gift  that  Heaven  gives  for  him. 

(Character.  —  JVom  the  French. 
[AN'S  Character  is  like  his  Shadow,  which  sometimes  follows, 
and  sometimes  precedes  him,  and  which  is  occasionally  longer, 
occasionally  shorter  than  he  is. 


am. 


52  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

<&l)UX  attn.  — Hare. 
HTHERE  is  a  glare  about  worldly  success,  which  is  very  apt  to 
dazzle  men's  eyes.  When  we  see  a  man  rising  in  the  world; 
thriving  in  business;  successful  in  his  speculations;  if  he  be  a  man 
out  of  our  own  line,  who  does  not  come  into  competition  with  us, 
so  as  to  make  us  jealous  of  him,  we  are  too  apt  to  form  a  foolishly 
high  opinion  of  his  merits.  We  are  apt  to  say  within  ourselves, 
"What  a  wonderful  man  this  must  be,  to  rise  so  rapidly?"  for- 
getting that  dust  and  straw,  and  feathers,  things  with  neither  weight 
nor  value  in  them,  rise  the  soonest  and  the  easiest.  In  like  manner, 
it  is  not  the  truly  great  and  good  man,  generally  speaking,  who 
rises  the  most  rapidly  into  wealth  and  notice.  A  man  may  be 
sharp,  active,  quick,  dexterous,  cunning;  he  may  be  ever  on  the 
watch  for  opportunities  to  push  his  fortunes;  a  man  of  this  kind 
can  hardly  fail  of  getting  on  in  the  world :  yet  with  all  this,  he 
may  not  have  a  grain  of  real  Greatness  about  him.  He  may  be  all 
I  have  described,  and  yet  have  no  Greatness  of  Mind,  no  Greatness 
of  Soul.  He  may  be  utterly  without  Sympathy  and  fellow-feeling 
for  others;  he  may  be  utterly  devoid  of  all  true  Wisdom;  he  may 
be  without  Piety  and  without  Charity;  without  Love,  that  is,  either 
for  God  or  Man. 

(ft  jataCter.  —  Shakspeare. 
rFHERE  can  be  no  kernel  in  this  light  nut;  the  Soul  of  this  Man 
is  his  Clothes. 

Character.  —  Shakspeare. 

He  has  been  bred  i'  the  wars 
Since  he  could  draw  a  sword,  and  is  ill-school'd 
In  boulted  language;  meal  and  bran  together 
He  throws  without  distinction. 

Character.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTO  be  generous,  guiltless,  and  of  free  disposition,  is  to  take  those 
things  for  bird-bolts,  that  you  deem  cannon-bullets.  There  is 
no  slander  in  an  allowed  Fool,  though  he  do  nothing  but  rail:  nor 
no  railing  in  a  known  Discreet  Man,  though  he  do  nothing  but 
reprove. 

(ftjjaraCter.  —  Shakspeare. 

He  that  trusts  you 
Where  he  should  find  you  Lions,  finds  you  Hares: 
Where  Foxes,  Geese.     You  are  no  surer,  no, 
Than  is  the  Coal  of  Fire  upon  the  Ice, 
Or  Hailstone  in  the  Sun. 

<!lf)aniCtet.  —  Shakspeare. 
Best  Men  are  moulded  out  of  Faults. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  53 

(DJjaraCtet.  —  Bulwer  LytUm. 
~Y"EVER  get  a  Reputation  for  a  small  perfection,  if  you  are  trying 
for  fame  in  a  loftier  area.  The  world  can  only  judge  by  gene- 
rals, and  it  sees  that  those  who  pay  considerable  attention  to  mi- 
nutiae, seldom  have  their  Minds  occupied  with  great  things.  There 
are,  it  is  true,  exceptions;  but  to  exceptions  the  world  does  not 
attend. 

Character.  —  Coiton. 

THE  most  consistent  men  are  not  more  unlike  to  others  than  they 
are  at  times  to  themselves;  therefore,  it  is  ridiculous  to  see 
Character-mongers  drawing  a  full-length  Likeness  of  some  great 
man,  and  perplexing  themselves  and  their  readers  by  making  every 
feature  of  his  Conduct  strictly  Conform  to  those  lines  and  linea- 
ments which  they  have  laid  down ;  they  generally  find  or  make  for 
him  some  Ruling  Passion  the  rudder  of  his  course;  but  with  all 
this  pother  about  Ruling  Passions,  the  fact  is,  that  all  men  and 
all  women  have  but  one  apparent  Good.  Those,  indeed,  are  the 
strongest  Minds,  and  are  capable  of  the  greatest  actions,  who  possess 
a  telescopic  power  of  intellectual  vision,  enabling  them  to  ascertain 
the  real  magnitude  and  importance  of  distant  goods,  and  to  despise 
those  which  are  indebted  for  all  their  grandeur  solely  to  their 
contiguity. 

(Character.  —  Shakspeare, 

THE  purest  treasure  mortal  times  afford, 

Is — spotless  Reputation;  that  away, 
Men  are  but  gilded  loam,  or  painted  clay. 
A  jewel  in  a  ten-times-barr'd-up  chest 
Is — a  bold  Spirit  in  a  loyal  Breast. 

(EfjaraCteC.  —  Franklin. 
THE  most  trifling  actions  that  affect  a  man's  Credit  are  to  be  re- 
garded. The  sound  of  your  hammer  at  five  in  the  morning,  or 
nine  at  night,  heard  by  a  Creditor,  makes  him  easy  six  months 
longer;  but  if  he  sees  you  at  a  Billiard  table,  or  hears  your  voice 
at  a  Tavern,  when  you  should  be  at  work,  he  sends  for  his  money 
the  next  day. 

(Character.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
YV'IIATEVER  Disgrace  we  have   merited,  it  is  almost  always  in 
our  power  to  re-establish  our  Reputation. 

(Character.  —  Shakspeare. 
T  ET  me  have  Men  about  me  that  are  fat; 

Sleek-headed  Men,  and  such  as  sleep  o'  nights : 
Yond'  Cassius  has  a  lean  and  hungry  look ; 
He  thinks  too  much  :  such  Men  are  dangerous. 


54-  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

<&t}aXatitt.—-S.  T.  Coleridge. 

TTOW  wonderfully  beautiful  is  the  delineation  of  the  Characters 
of  the  three  Patriarchs  in  Genesis!  To  be  sure,  if  ever  man 
could,  without  impropriety,  be  called,  or  supposed  to  be,  "  the 
friend  of  God,"  Abraham  was  that  man.  We  are  not  surprised 
that  Abimelech  and  Ephron  seem  to  reverence  him  so  profoundly. 
He  was  peaceful,  because  of  his  conscious  relation  to  God. 

Character.  —  Sliahspeare. 
T  OOK,  as  I  blow  this  feather  from  my  face, 

And  as  the  air  blows  it  to  me  again, 
Obeying  with  my  wind  when  I  do  blow, 
And  yielding  to  another  when  it  blows, 
Commanded  always  by  the  greater  gust; 
Such  is  the  Lightness  of  you  Common  Men. 

(EfjaraCter.  —  Shakspeare. 
In  war  was  never  Lion  raged  so  fierce, 
In  peace  was  never  gentle  Lamb  more  mild. 

OnjaraCter.  _  Shakspeare. 
r^J_OOD  Name,  in  man,  and  woman, 

Is  the  immediate  jewel  of  their  souls. 
"Who  steals  my  purse,  steals  trash;  'tis  something,  nothing; 
'Twas  mine,  'tis  his,  and  has  been  slave  to  thousands : 
But  he,  that  filches  from  me  my  Good  Name, 
Robs  me  of  that,  which  not  enriches  him, 
And  makes  me  poor  indeed. 

Character.  —  Pope. 

Q ELF-LOVE  thus  push'd  to  social,  to  divine, 

Gives  thee  to  make  thy  neighbour's  blessing  thine 
Is  this  too  little  for  the  boundless  heart  ? 
Extend  it,  let  thy  enemies  have  part. 
Grasp  the  whole  world  of  Reason,  Life,  and  Sense, 
In  one  close  system  of  benevolence  : 
Happier  as  kinder,  in  whate'er  degree, 
And  height  of  Bliss  but  height  of  Charity. 

Character.  —  Shakspeare. 
A  hungry  lean-fac'd  Villain, 
A  mere  Anatomy,  a  Mountebank, 
A  thread-bare  Juggler,  and  a  Fortune-teller; 
A  needy,  hollow-ey'd,  sharp-looking  Wretch, 
A  living  dead  Man ;  this  pernicious  Slave, 
Forsooth,  took  on  him  as  a  Conjurer; 
And  gazing  in  mine  eyes,  feeling  my  pulse, 
And  with  no  face,  as  'twere,  out-facing  me. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  55 

<£f)aractet.  —  Shakvpeare. 

In  the  Reproof  of  Chance 
Lies  the  true  Proof  of  Men.     The  sea  being  smooth, 
How  many  shallow  bauble  boats  dare  sail 
Upon  her  patient  breast,  making  their  way 
With  those  of  nobler  bulk  ? 
But  let  the  ruffian  Boreas  once  enrage 
The  gentle  Thetis,  and  anon,  behold 
The  strong-ribb'd  bark  through  liquid  mountains  cut, 
Bounding  between  the  two  moist  elements, 
Like  Perseus'  horse  :  Where's  then  the  saucy  boat, 
Whose  weak  untimber'd  sides  but  even  now 
Co-rivall'd  greatness  ?  Either  to  harbour  fled, 
Or  made  a  toast  for  Neptune.     Even  so 
Doth  Valour's  Show,  and  Valour's  Worth,  divide, 
In  storms  of  Fortune  :  For,  in  her  ray  and  brightness, 
The  herd  hath  more  annoyance  by  the  brize, 
Than  by  the  tiger;  but  when  the  splitting  wind 
Makes  flexible  the  knees  of  knotted  oaks, 
And  flies  fled  under  shade,  why,  then  the  Thing  of  Courage, 
As  roused  with  rage,  with  rage  doth  sympathize, 
And  with  an  accent  tuned  in  self-same  key, 
Returns  to  chiding  Fortune. 

Character.  —  Shakspeare. 
I  know  him  a  notorious  Liar, 
Think  him  a  great  way  Fool,  solely  a  Coward ; 
Yet  these  fix'd  evils  sit  so  fit  in  him, 
That  they  take  place,  when  Virtue's  steely  bones 
Look  bleak  in  the  cold  wind  :  withal,  full  oft  we  see 
Cold  Wisdom  waiting  on  superfluous  Folly. 

(£f)ataCtet.  —  Shakspeare. 

He  reads  much  : 
He  is  a  great  Observer,  and  he  looks 
Quite  through  the  deeds  of  men  :  he  loves  no  plays ; 
He  hears  no  music : 

Seldom  he  smiles;  and  smiles  in  such  a  sort, 
As  if  he  mock'd  himself,  and  scorn'd  his  spirit 
That  could  be  mov'd  to  smile  at  any  thing. 
Character.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTE'S  truly  valiant,  that  can  wisely  suffer 
-*--*-  The  worst  that  man  can  breathe ;  and  make  his  wrongs 
His  outsides;  to  wear  them  like  his  raiment,  carelessly  ; 
And  ne'er  prefer  his  Injuries  to  his  Heart, 
To  bring  it  into  danger. 


56  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

atijatitg.— Pope. 

JN  Faith  and  Hope  the  world  will  disagree, 
But  all  mankind's  concerned  in  Charity : 
All  must  be  false  that  thwart  this  one  great  end; 
And  all  of  God,  that  bless  mankind,  or  mend. 

(Sjatttg*  —  Spenser. 

Good  is  no  good  but  if  it  be  spend  : 
God  giveth  good  for  none  other  end. 

(Efjaritj).  —  Byron. 
The  drying  up  a  single  tear  has  more 
Of  honest  fame,  than  shedding  seas  of  gore. 

(tfijarttg.—  Pope. 

TS  there  a  variance  ?  enter  but  his  door, 

Balk'd  are  the  courts,  and  contest  is  no  more. 
Despairing  quacks  with  curses  left  the  place, 
And  vile  attorneys,  now  a  useless  race. 

(ftjarttg,— -  Cotton. 

T>OSTHUMOUS  Charities  are  the  very  essence  of  Selfishness, 
when  bequeathed  by  those  who,  when  alive,  would  part  with 
nothing. 

(ftjatttg.  —  Seneca. 
A  PHYSICIAN  is  not  angry  at  the  intemperance  of  a  mad  patient, 
nor  does  he  take  it  ill  to  be  railed  at  by  a  man  in  a  fever.   Just 
so  should  a  wise  man  treat  all  mankind,  as  a  physician  does  his 
patient,  and  look  upon  them  only  as  -sick  and  extravagant. 

<£i)arttp.  —  Shakspeare. 
Gently  to  hear,  kindly  to  judge. 

$Jui)ltc  <£f)arittes.—  Coiton. 

"pUBLIC  Charities  and  benevolent  Associations  for  the  gratuitous 
Relief  of  every  species  of  Distress,  are  peculiar  to  Christianity ; 
no  other  system  of  civil  or  religious  policy  has  originated  them ; 
they  form  its  highest  praise  and  characteristic  feature. 

2Tf)e  Charlatan.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTE  now,  forsooth,  takes  on  him  to  reform 

Some  certain  edicts,  and  some  strait  decrees, 
That  lie  too  heavy  on  the  Commonwealth  : 
Cries  out  upon  abuses,  seems  to  weep 
Over  his  country's  wrongs;  and,  by  this  Face, 
This  seeming  Brow  of  Justice,  did  he  win 


The  hearts  of  all  that  he  did  angle  for. 


=JJ 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD..  57 

(CfjclStttg.  —  Shakspearc. 
The  Heavens  hold  firm 
The  walls  of  thy  dear  Honour ;  keep  unshak'd 
That  Temple,  thy  fair  Mind. 

<&%a$tit$.  —  SaviUe. 

A  CLOSE  Behaviour  is  the  fittest  to  receive  Virtue  for  its  constant 
guest,  because  there,  and  there  only,  it  can  be  secure.  Proper 
Reserves  are  the  outworks,  and  must  never  be  deserted  by  those  who 
intend  to  keep  the  place ;  they  keep  off  the  possibilities  not  only  of 
being  taken,  but  of  being  attempted;  and  if  a  woman  seeth  danger, 
though  at  never  so  remote  a  distance,  she  is  for  that  time  to  shorten 
her  line  of  liberty.  She,  who  will  allow  herself  to  go  to  the  utmost 
extent  of  every  thing  that  is  lawful,  is  so  very  near  going  further, 
that  those  who  lie  at  watch  will  begin  to  count  upon  her. 

(£Ijeerf  ulncss.  —  Pope. 

"IXrHAT  then  remains,  but  well  our  power  to  use, 

And  keep  Good  Humour  still,  whate'er  we  lose  ? 
And  trust  me,  dear  Good  Humour  can  prevail, 
When  airs,  and  flights,  and  screams,  and  scolding  fail; 
Beauties  in  vain  their  pretty  eyes  may  roll; 
Charms  strike  the  sight,  but  merit  wins  the  soul. 

CCfjCClt  UiHCSiS.  —  Collins. 
THEN  Cheerfulness,  a  nymph  of  healthiest  hue, 


W 


Her  bow  across  her  shoulders  flung, 


Her  buskins  gemm'd  with  morning  dew, 

Blew  an  inspiring  air,  that  dale  and  thicket  rung. 

(Cijeett  UlneSS.  —  Montaigne. 
The  most  manifest  sign  of  Wisdom  is  continued  Cheerfulness. 

(CljeeCf UlneSS.  —  Lord  Bolingbrohe. 
T  HAVE  observed,  that  in  comedies  the  best  actor  plays  the  droll 
while  some  scrub  rogue  is  made  the  fine  gentleman  or  hero 
Thus  it  is  in  the  farce   of  Life, — wise  men  spend  their  time  ir 
Mirth,  'tis  only  fools  who  are  serious. 

Cheerfulness.  —Steele. 

QHEERFULXESS  is  always  to  be  supported  if  a  man  is  out  of 
pain,  but  Mirth  to  a  prudent  man  should  always  be  accidental. 
It  should  naturally  arise  out  of  the  occasion,  and  the  occasion 
seldom  be  laid  fur  it;  for  those  tempers  who  want  Mirth  to  be 
pleased,  are  like  the  constitutions  which  flag  without  the  use  of 
brandy.  Therefore,  I  say,  let  your  precept  be,  "  be  easy."  That 
mind  is  dissolute  and  ungoverned,  which  must  be  hurried  out  of 
itself  by  loud  laughter  or  sensual  pleasure,  or  else  be  wholly  in 
active. 


58  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 

(Cheerfulness.  —  Coiton. 

rjHEERFULNESS  ought  to  be  the  viaticum  vitse  of  their  life  to 
the  old  ;  age  without  Cheerfulness,  is  a  Lapland  winter  without 
a  sun ;  and  this  spirit  of  Cheerfulness  should  be  encouraged  in  our 
youth,  if  we  would  wish  to  have  the  benefit  of  it  in  our  old  age; 
time  will  make  a  generous  wine  more  mellow;  but  it  will  turn 
that  which  is  early  on  the  fret,  to  vinegar. 

Cheerfulness.  —  Seneca. 

npKUE  Joy  is  a  serene  and  sober  motion:  and  they  are  miserably 
out,  that  take  Laughing  for  rejoicing :  the  seat  of  it  is  within, 
and  there  is  no  Cheerfulness  like  the  resolutions  of  a  brave  mind. 

(Kljeetf  UlneSS.  —Horace. 
rPHE  Mind  that  is  cheerful  in  its  present  state,  will  be  averse  to 
all  solicitude  as  to  the  future,  and  will  meet  the  bitter  occur- 
rences of  Life  with  a  placid  Smile. 

<ftf)<*tf  UlneSS.  —  Pliny. 
A  S  in  our  lives  so  also  in  our  studies,  it  is  most  becoming  and 
most  wise,  so  to  temper  Gravity  with  Cheerfulness,  that  the 
former  may  not  imbue  our  minds  with  Melancholy,  nor  the  latter 
degenerate  into  Licentiousness. 

(Efteetf  UlneSS.  —  Massinger. 
Cheerful  looks  make  every  dish  a  feast, 
And  'tis  that  crowns  a  welcome. 

(£fjeetfulneSS.—  Spenser. 
A  ND  her  against  sweet  Cheerfulnesse  was  placed, 

Whose  eyes  like  twinkling  stars  in  evening  cleare, 
"Were  deckt  with  smyles,  and  all  Sad  Humors  chased, 
And  darted  forth  Delights,  the  which  her  goodly  grae'd. 

(£{)ttltnQ.  —  Sliahspeare. 

Those,  that  do  teach  young  babes, 
Do  it  with  gentle  means,  and  easy  tasks ; 
He  might  have  Chid  me  so :  for,  in  good  faith, 
I  am  a  child  to  Chiding. 

Cf)e  djlttl.  —  Byron. 
~DUT  thou  wilt  burst  this  transient  sleep, 

And  thou  wilt  wake,  my  Babe,  to  weep ; 
The  tenant  of  a  frail  abode, 
Thy  tears  must  flow,  as  mine  have  flow'd  : 
Beguil'd  by  follies  every  day, 
Sorrow  must  wash  the  faults  away, 
And  thou  rnay'st  wake  perchance  to  prove 
The  pang  of  unrequited  love. 


OR,     THINGS    NEW    AXD     OLD.  59 

<Ef)C  ftjiftL  —  Byron. 

C  WEET  be  thy  cradled  slumbers  !     O'er  the  sea, 
And  from  the  mountains  where  I  now  respire, 
Fain  would  I  waft  such  blessing  upon  thee, 
As,  with  a  sigh,  I  deem  thou  might' st  have  been  to  me  ! 

Cj)e  (£f)tft(.  —  Campbell 
T  0  !  at  the  couch  where  Infant  Beauty  sleeps, 

Her  silent  watch  the  mournful  Mother  .keeps  : 
She,  while  the  lovely  Babe  unconscious  lies, 
Smiles  on  her  slumbering  Child  with  pensive  eyes, 
And  weaves  a  song  of  melancholy  joy — 
"  Sleep,  image  of  thy  father,  sleep,  my  boy  : 
No  lingering  hour  of  sorrow  shall  be  thine; 
No  sigh  that  rends  thy  Father's  heart  and  mine ; 
Bright  as  his  manly  Sire  the  Son  shall  be 
In  form  and  soul ;  but,  ah  !  more  blessed  than  he  ! 
Thy  fame,  thy  worth,  thy  filial  love,  at  last, 
Shall  soothe  this  aching  heart  for  all  the  past — 
With  many  a  smile  my  solitude  repay, 
And  chase  the  world's  ungenerous  scorn  away." 

CfjC  (CljtltJ.  —  Rogers. 
THE  hour  arrives,  the  moment  wish'd  and  fear'd  ; 

The  Child  is  born,  by  many  a  pang  endear'd. 
And  now  the  Mother's  ear  has  caught  his  cry; 
Oh  grant  the  Cherub  to  her  asking  eye  ! 
He  comes  .  .  .  she  clasps  him.     To  her  bosom  press'd, 
He  drinks  the  balm  of  life,  and  drops  to  rest. 

Z\)Z  (&\)i[b.  — Rogers. 
Then,  gathering  round  his  bed,  they  climb  to  share 
His  kisses,  and  with  gentle  violence  there, 
Break  in  upon  a  dream  not  half  so  fair. 

Cfje  (Efjittr.  — ifynm. 

TO  aid  thy  Mind's  Developments, — to  watch 

Thy  Dawn  of  little  Joys, — to  sit  and  see 
Almost  thy  very  Growth, — to  view  thee  catch 

Knowledge  of  objects, — wonders  yet  to  thee  ! 

To  hold  thee  lightly  on  a  gentle  knee, 
And  print  on  thy  soft  cheek  a  Parent's  kiss; — 

This,  it  should  seem,  was  not  reserved  for  me ! 
Yet  this  was  in  my  nature : — as  it  is, 
I  know  not  what  is  there,  yet  something  like  to  this. 


60  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH 

<£f)tttlf)00tJ.  —  Bishop  Erie. 
A  CHILD  is  man  in  a  small  letter,  yet  the  best  copy  of  Adam, 
before  he  tasted  of  Eve  or  the  apple;  and  he  is  happy  whose 
small  practice  in  the  world  can  only  write  his  character.  His  soul 
is  yet  a  white  paper  unscribbled  with  observations  of  the  world, 
wherewith,  at  length,  it  becomes  a  blurred  note-book.  He  is  purely 
happy,  because  he  knows  no  evil,  nor  hath  made  means  by  sin  to 
be  acquainted  with  misery.  He  arrives  not  at  the  mischief  of  being 
wise,  nor  endures  evils  to  come,  by  foreseeing  them.  He  kisses 
and  loves  all,  and,  when  the  smart  of  the  rod  is  past,  smiles  on  his 
beater.  The  elder  he  grows,  he  is  a  stair  lower  from  God.  He  is 
the  Christian's  example,  and  the  old  man's  relapse;  the  one  imi- 
tates his  pureness,  and  the  other  falls  into  his  simplicity.  Could 
he  put  off  his  body  with  his  little  coat,  he  had  got  eternity  without 
a  burden,  and  exchanged  but  one  heaven  for  another. 

(£f)tttfrm—  Byron. 
VET  a  fine  Family  is  a  fine  thing 

(Provided  they  don't  come  in  after  dinner;) 
'Tis  beautiful  to  see  a  Matron  bring 

Her  Children  up,  (if  nursing  them  don't  thin  her.) 

(EfyiltiUn.  — Byron. 

He  smiles,  and  sleeps ! — sleep  on 
And  smile,  thou  little,  young  Inheritor 
Of  a  world  scarce  less  young:  sleep  on,  and  smile! 
Thine  are  the  hours  and  days  when  both  are  cheering 
And  innocent ! 

(StyXUXtXl.  — Thomson. 
T  OOK  here  and  weep  with  tenderness  and  transport 

What  is  all  tasteless  luxury  to  this? 
To  these  best  joys,  which  holy  Love  bestows? 
Oh  Nature,  parent  Nature,  thou  alone 
Art  the  true  judge  of  what  can  make  us  happy. 

<&§iVbUn.  —  GrevUle. 
T  HARDLY  know  so  melancholy  a  reflection,  as  that  Parents  are 
necessarily  the  sole  directors  of  the  management  of  Children ; 
whether  they  have,  or  have  not,  judgment,  penetration,  or  taste,  to 
perform  the  task. 

<£f)  tlfcCCn.  —  Cicero. 
Yy  HAT  gift  has  Providence  bestowed  on  Man,  that  is  so  dear  to 

him  as  his  Children  ? 


OR,     TEIXGS    NEW  AXD     OLD.  6! 

QfyiXHXm.  —  Byrvn. 

T  OOK!  how  he  lauglis  and  stretches  out  his  arms, 

And  opens  wide  his  blue  eyes  upon  thine, 
To  hail  bis  Father:  while  his  little  form 
Flutters  as  wing'd  with  joy.      Talk  not  of  pain! 
The  childless  cherubs  well  might  envy  thee 
The  pleasures  of  a  Parent !     Bless  him  ! 
As  yet  he  hath  no  words  to  thank  thee,  but 
His  heart  will,  and  thine  own  too. 

(Cfjtttiart.—  Oehlenschlager. 
THE  plays  of  natural  lively  Children   are   the  infancy   of  art. 
Children  live  in  the  world  of  imagination   and  feeling.     They 
invest  the  most  insignificant  object  with  any  form  they  please,  and 
see  in  it  whatever  they  wish  to  see. 

(CJjtltlten.  —  Thomson. 
"YfEANTDIE  a  smiling  Offspring  rises  round, 

And  mingles  both  their  graces.     By  degrees, 
The  Human  Blossom  blows;  and  every  day, 
Soft  as  it  rolls  along,  shows  some  new  charm. 

(CljOtCC  Of  Elfe.  —  Cicero. 

THE  number  is  small  of  those  persons,  who,  either  by  extraor- 
dinary pre-eminence  of  genius,  or  by  superior  erudition  and 
knowledge,  or  who,  endowed  with  either  of  these,  have  enjoyed  the 
privilege  of  deliberately  deciding  what  Mode  of  Life  they  would  the 
most  wish  to  embrace. 

2Tf)e   (Efytilctit.  — Fuller. 
THOSE  Passionate  Persons  who  carry  their  heart  in  their  mouth 
are  rather  to  be  pitied  than  feared;  their  threatenings  serving 
qo  other  purpose  than  to  forearm  him  that  is  threatened. 

£i)ti$tianitv.  —  A?wn. 

THERE  is  only  one  way  in  which  Philosophy  can  truly  become 
popular,  that  which  Socrates  tried,  and  which  centuries  after 
was  perfected  in  the  Gospel, — that  which  tells  men  of  their  Divine 
Origin  and  Destiny,  of  their  Heavenly  Duties  and  Calling.  This 
comes  home  to  men's  hearts  and  bosoms,  and,  instead  of  puffing 
them  up,  humbles  them.  But  to  be  efficient,  this  should  flow  down 
straight  from  a  higher  sphere.  Even  in  its  Socratic  form,  it  was 
supported  by  those  higher  principles,  which  we  find  set  forth  with 
such  power  and  beauty  by  Plato.  In  Christian  Philosophy,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  ladder  has  come  down  from  heaven,  and  the  angels 
are  continually  descending  and  ascending  along  it. 


62  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

<Et)XiStianit)}.—  Channing. 
CJINCE  its  introduction,  human  nature  has  made  great  progress, 
and  society  experienced  great  changes;  and  in  this  advanced 
condition  of  the  world,  Christianity,  instead  of  losing  its  applica- 
tion and  importance,  is  found  to  be  more  and  more  congenial  and 
adapted  to  man's  nature  and  wants.  Men  have  outgrown  the  other 
institutions  of  that  period  when  Christianity  appeared,  its  philoso- 
phy, its  modes  of  warfare,  its  policy,  its  public  and  private  economy; 
but  Christianity  has  never  shrunk  as  intellect  has  opened,  but  has 
always  kept  in  advance  of  men's  faculties,  and  unfolded  nobler 
views  in  proportion  as  they  have  ascended.  The  highest  powers 
and  affections  which  our  nature  has  developed,  find  more  than  ade- 
quate objects  in  this  religion.  Christianity  is  indeed  peculiarly 
fitted  to  the  more  improved  stages  of  society,  to  the  more  delicate 
sensibilities  of  refined  minds,  and  especially  to  that  dissatisfaction 
with  the  present  state,  which  always  grows  with  the  growth  of  our 
moral  powers  and  affections. 

<&f)Urd).  —  Burns. 
TTERE  some  are  thinkin'  on  their  sins, 

An'  some  upo'  their  claes; 
Ane  curses  feet  that  fyl'd  his  shins, 

Anither  sighs  an'  prays  : 
On  this  hand  sits  a  chosen  swatch, 

Wi'  screw' d-up,  grace-proud  faces; 
On  that,  a  set  o'  chaps,  at  watch, 
Thrang  winkin'  on  the  lasses. 

Cfje  (£ttt?Ctt-  —  Cowper. 
SUBURBAN  villas,  highway-side  retreats, 

That  dread  th'  encroachment  of  our  growing  streets, 
Tight  boxes,  neatly  sash'd,  and  in  a  blaze 
"With  all  a  July  sun's  collected  rays, 
Delight  the  citizen,  who  gasping  there 
Breathes  clouds  of  dust,  and  calls  it  country  air. 

2Tf)e  (£iti}tn.— Churchill. 
C\R  at  some  Banker's  desk,  like  many  more, 

Content  to  tell  that  two  and  two  make  four, 
His  name  had  stood  in  City  annals  fair, 
And  prudent  dulness  mark'd  him  for  a  Mayor. 

(fttbtlttg.  _  Chesterfield. 
'THE  insolent  Civility  of  a  proud  man  is,  if  pcssible,  more  shock- 
ing than  his  Rudeness  could  be;  because  he  shows  you,  by  his 
Manner,  that  he  thinks  it  mere  Condescension  in  him;  a.nd  that 
his  goodness  alone  bestows  upon  you  what  you  have  no  pretence  to 


claim. 


OR,    TIIIXGS   NEW  AXD   OLD.  63 


(Ttbtlttp.  —TiUotson. 
A    GOOD  "Word  is  an  easy  Obligation  j  but  not  to  speak  ill,  re- 
quires only  our  silence,  which  costs  us  nothing. 

<£tbtlt?at(0n.—  Burke. 
T\rF  are  but  too  apt  to  consider  things  in  the  state  in  which  we 
find  them,  without  sufficiently  adverting  to  the  causes  by 
which  they  have  been  produced,  and  possibly  may  be  upheld. 
Nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  our  Manners,  our  Civilization, 
and  all  the  good  things  which  are  connected  with  Civilization, 
have,  in  this  European  world  of  ours,  depended  for  ages  upon  two 
principles;  and  were  indeed  the  result  of  both  combined;  I  mean 
the  spirit  of  a  Gentleman  and  the  spirit  of  Religion.  The  Nobility 
and  the  Clergy,  the  one  by  profession,  the  other  by  patronage,  kept 
learning  in  existence  even  in  the  midst  of  arms  and  confusion,  and 
whilst  governments  were  rather  in  their  causes  than  formed.  Learn- 
ing paid  back  what  it  received  to  Nobility  and  Priesthood,  and  paid 
it  with  usury,  by  enlarging  their  ideas  and  by  furnishing  their  minds. 

(£Mlv}atim\.  —  Anon. 

TN  the  Bible  the  Body  is  said  to  be  more  than  Raiment.  But 
many  people  still  read  the  Bible  Hebrew-wise,  backward :  and 
thus  the  general  conviction  now  is  that  Raiment  is  more  than  the 
Body.  There  is  so  much  to  gaze  and  stare  at  in  the  Dress,  one's 
eyes  are  quite  dazzled  and  weary,  and  can  hardly  pierce  through  to 
that  which  is  clothed  upon.  So  too  is  it  with  the  mind  and  heart, 
scarcely  less  than  with  the  body. 

(fttbtlijattoll.— Bare. 

The  ultimate  tendency  of  Civilization,  is  toward  Barbarism. 

©ibtlt?atum.— Coiton. 

A  LL  nations  that  have  reached  the  highest  point  of  Civilization, 
may  from  that  hour  assume  for  their  motto,  viderl  quam 
esse.  And  whenever  and  wherever  we  see  Ostentation  substituted 
for  Happiness,  Profession  for  Friendship,  Formality  for  Religion, 
Pedantry  for  Learning,  BufFoonry  for  Wit,  Artifice  for  Nature,  and 
Hypocrisy  for  every  thing ;  these  are  the  signs  of  the  times  which 
he  that  runs  may  read,  and  which  will  enable  the  Philosopher  to 
date  the  commencement  of  National  Decay,  from  the  consummation 
of  National  Refinement. 

(Etbtlt^attOtt.—  Sore. 

QHRTSTIANITY  has  carried  Civilization  along  with  it,  whither- 
soever it  has  gone  :  and,  ns  if  to  show  that  the  latter  does  not 
end  on  physical  causes,  some  of  the  countries  the  most  civilized 

in  the  days  of  Augustus  are  now  in  a  state  of  hopeless  Barbarism. 


(U  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

(£MU}atwn.  —  Coiton. 

^SEMI-CIVILIZED  state  of  Society,  equally  removed  from  the 
extremes  of  Barbarity  and  of  Refinement,  seems  to  be  that  par- 
ticular meridian  under  which  all  the  reciprocities  and  gratuities  of 
hospitality  do  most  really  flourish  and  abound.  For  it  so  happens 
that  the  ease,  the  luxury,  and  the  abundance  of  the  highest  state 
of  Civilization,  are  as  productive  of  selfishness,  as  the  difficulties, 
the  privations,  and  the  sterilities  of  the  lowest. 

(Classical  Studies.  —  story. 

FT  is  no  exaggeration  to  declare  that  he  who  proposes  to  abolish 
classical  studies  proposes  to  render,  in  a  great  measure,  inert 
and  unedifying  the  mass  of  English  literature  for  three  centuries; 
to  rob  us  of  the  glory  of  the  past,  and  much  of  the  instruction  of 
future  ages;  to  blind  us  to  excellences  which  few  may  hope  to 
equal  and  none  to  surpass;  to  annihilate  associations  which  are 
interwoven  withour  best  sentiments,  and  give  to  distant  times  and 
countries  a  presence  and  reality  as  if  they  were  in  fact  his  own. 

(ftleaitlmegS.  —  Thomson. 
Even  from  the  Body's  Purity,  the  Mind 
Receives  a  secret  sympathetic  aid. 

(Climate.  —  Sir  W.  Temple. 
OUR  Country  must  be  confessed  to  be,  what  a  great  foreign 
physician  called  it,  the  region  of* spleen;  which  may  arise  a 
good  deal  from  the  great  uncertainty  and  many  sudden  changes  of 
our  weather  in  all  seasons  of  the  year :  and  how  much  these  affect 
the  heads  and  hearts,  especially  of  the  finest  tempers,  is  hard  to  be 
believed  by  men  whose  thoughts  are  not  turned  to  such  specula- 
tions. 

<E*lttttat0*  — Justus  Moser. 
npHE  institutions  of  a  Country  depend  in  great  measure  on  the 
Nature  of  its  Soil  and  Situation.  Many  of  the  wants  of  man 
are  awakened  or  supplied  by  these  circumstances.  To  these  wants, 
manners,  laws,  and  religion  must  shape  and  accommodate  themselves. 
The  division  of  Land,  and  the  rights  attached  to  it,  alter  with  the 
Soil;  the  laws,  relating  to  its  Produce,  with  its  Fertility.  The  man- 
ners of  its  inhabitants  are  in  various  ways  modified  by  its  Position. 
The  religion  of  a  miner  is  not  the  same  as  the  faith  of  a  shepherd, 
nor  is  the  character  of  the  ploughman  so  warlike  as  that  of  the 
hunter.  The  observant  legislator  follows  the  direction  of  all  these 
various  circumstances.  The  knowledge  of  the  Natural  Advantages 
or  Defects  of  a  Country  thus  form  an  essential  part  of  political 
science  and  history. 


OR,   THINGS    NEW  AND    OLD.  65 


(£luu  (goSStp..—  Shakspeare. 
HTHEY'LL  sit  by  the  fire,  and  presume  to  know 

What's  done  i'  the  Capitol :  who's  like  to  rise, 
"Who  thrives,  and  who  declines;  side  factions,  and  give  out 
Conjectural  marriages;  making  parties  strong, 
And  feebling  such  as  stand  not  in  their  liking. 

<E0  mm  enfcatiOlt.  —  Fielding. 
QOMMEND  a  Fool  for  his  Wit,  or  a  Knave  for  his  Honesty, 
and  they  will  receive  you  into  their  bosom. 

(Commerce.  —  Addison. 
A    WELL-REGULATED  Commerce  is  not,  like  law,  physic,  01 
divinity,  to  be  over-stocked  with  hands;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
flourishes  by  multitudes,  and  gives  employment  to  all  its  professors. 

(Commerce.— Anon. 

A    STATESMAN  may  do  much  for  Commerce,  most  by  leaving 
it  alone.     A  river  never  flows  so  smoothly,  as  when  it  follows 
its  own  course,  without  either  aid  or  check.     Let  it  make  its  own 
bed  :  it  will  do  so  better  than  you  can. 

2H)e  <£omct.  —  Thomson. 
T  0  !  from  the  dread  immensity  of  space 

Returning,  with  accelerated  course, 
The  rushing  Comet  to  the  sun  descends: 
And  as  he  sinks  below  the  shading  earth, 
AVith  awful  train  projected  o'er  the  heavens, 
The  guilty  nations  tremble. 

<ftompantonsf)tp.—  GrevUk. 

OUR  Companions  please  us  less  from  the  charms  we  find  in  their 
conversation,  than  from  those  they  find  in  ours. 

(ftomparttOnSfnp.  —  Lessing. 
rpHE  most  agreeable  of  all  Companions  is  a  simple,  frank  man, 
without  any  high  pretensions  to  an  oppressive  greatness  :  one 
who  loves  life,  and  understands  the  use  of  it;  obliging,  alike  at 
all  hours;  above  all,  of  a  golden  temper,  and  steadfast  as  an  anchor. 
For  such  an  one  we  gladly  exchange  the  greatest  genius,  the 
most  brilliant  wit,  the  profoundest  thinker. 

OTompanj).  —  Chesterfield. 
j\"0  man  can  possibly  improve  in  any  Company,  for  which  he  has 
not  respect  enough  to  be  under  some  degree  of  restraint. 

(ftOmpattg,  —  Lavater. 

fJ^HE  freer  you  feel  yourself  in  the  presence  of  another,  the  more 
free  is  he. 


W  ILLUSTRATION'S   OF   TRUTH; 

atompang.  —  Chesterfield. 
THAKE,  rather  than  give,  the  tone  of  the  Company  you  are  in 
If  you  have  parts,  you  will  show  them,   more  or  less,  upon 
every  subject;  and  if  you  have  not,  you  had  better  talk  sillily  upon 
a  subject  of  other  people's  than  your  own  choosing. 

(ftmttpattg,— Bmft. 

"^"ATURE  has  left  every  man  a  capacity  of  being  agreeable,  though 
not  of  shining  in   Company;  and  there  are  a  hundred   men 
sufficiently  qualified  for  both  who,  by  a  very  few  faults,  that   they 
might  correct  in  half  an  hour,  are  not  so  much  as  tolerable. 

(EompariSim.  —  Skakspeare. 
\\n3EN  the  Moon  shone,  we  did  not  see  the  Candle. 

So  doth  the  greater  glory  dim  the  less ; 
A  Substitute  shines  brightly  as  a  King, 
Until  a  King  be  by;  and  then  his  state 
Empties  itself,  as  doth  an  inland  Brook 
Into  the  Main  of  Waters. 

(&omyaxmn.— Johnson. 

HTHE  Superiority  of  some  men  is  merely  local.     They  are  great, 
because  their  associates  are  little. 

(ftompariSOnS.  —Addison. 
NOTWITHSTANDING-  man's  essential  Perfection  is  but  very 
little,  his  comparative  Perfection  may  be  very  considerable. 
If  he  looks  upon  himself  in  an  abstracted  light,  he  has  not  much  to 
boast  of;  but  if  he  considers  himself  with  regard  to  others,  he  may 
find  occasion  of  glorying,  if  not  in  his  own  Virtues,  at  least  in  the 
absence  of  another's  Imperfections.  This  gives  a  different  turn  to 
the  reflections  of  the  Wise  man  and  the  Fool.  The  first  endeavours 
to  shine  in  himself,  and  the  last  to  outshine  others.  The  first  is 
humbled  by  the  sense  of  his  own  infirmities,  the  last  is  lifted  up  by 
the  discovery  of  those  which  he  observes  in  other  men.  The  Wiss 
Man  considers  what  he  wants,  aud  the  Fool  what  he  abounds  in. 
The  Wise  man  is  happy  when  he  gains  his  own  approbation,  and 
the  Fool  when  he  recommends  himself  to  the  applause  of  those 
about  hiui. 

C£omplatnmg.  —  Skakspeare. 
I  WILL  chide  no  breather  in  the  world,  but  myself;  against  whom 
I  know  most  faults. 

(Compliments.  —  Chesterfield. 
(COMPLIMENTS  of  Congratulation  are  always  kindly  taken,  and 
cost  one  nothing  but  pen,  ink,  and  paper.     I  consider  them  as 
draughts   upon    Good    Breeding,   where    the    exchange    is    always 
greatly  in  favour  of  the  drawer. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  67 

{Composition*  —  Cotton. 

'THE  great  cause  of  that  delight  we  receive  from  a  fine  Compo- 
sition, whether  it  be  in  Prose  or  in  Yerse,  I  conceive  to  be 
this :  the  marvellous  and  magic  power  it  confers  upon  the  reader ; 
enabling  an  inferior  mind  at  one  glance,  and  almost  without  an  ef- 
fort, to  seize,  to  embrace,  and  to  enjoy  those  remote  Combinations 
of  Wit,  melting  Harmonies  of  Sound,  and  vigorous  Condensations 
of  Sense,  that  cost  a  superior  mind  so  much  perseverance,  labour, 
and  time. 

(COttCCit.  —  Cotton. 
"^"ONE  are  so  seldom  found  alone,  and  are  so  soon  tired  of  their 
own  company,  as  those  Coxcombs  who  are  on  the  best  terms 
with  themselves. 

(Conceit  — Pope. 
f^ONCEIT  is  to  nature  what  paint  is  to  beauty ;  it  is  not  only 
needless,  but  impairs  what  it  would  improve. 

(Conceit.  —  Sliakspeare. 
Conceit  in  weakest  bodies  strongest  works. 

(Conciliation Cicero. 

TT  is  the  part  of  a  prudent  man  to  conciliate  the  minds  of  others; 
and  to  turn  them  to  his  own  advantage. 

(ContJUCt.  —  Shakspcare. 

GlVE  every  man  thine  ear,  but  few  thy  voice  : 
Take  each  man's  censure,  but  reserve  thy  judgment. 

{Contmct.  —  Shakspeare. 
F)EFECT  of  Manners,  want  of  Government, 

Pride,  Haughtiness,  Opinion,  and  Disdain : 
The  least  of  which, 

Loseth  men's  hearts  j  and  leaves  behind  a  stain 
Upon  the  beauty  of  all  parts  besides, 
Beguiling  them  of  commendation. 

{Conduct.  —  Greville. 
JT  is  not  enough  that  you  form,  nay,  and  follow,  the  most  ex 
cellent  Rules  for  Conducting  yourself  in  the  world  ;  you  must  also 
know  when  to  deviate  from  them,  and  where  lies  the  exception. 

(ContJUCt.  —  Clarendon. 
JF  we  do  not  weigh  and  consider  to  what  end  this  life  is  given  us, 
and  thereupon  order  and  dispose  it  right,  pretend  what  we  will 
to  the  arithmetic,  we  do  not,  we  cannot,  so  much  as  number  our 
days  in  they  narrowest  and  most  limited  signification. 

G 


68  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

(Conflict  —  Shakspeare. 
PTAVE  more  than  thou  showest, 
Speak  less  than  thou  knowest, 
Lend  less  than  thou  owest, 
Learn  more  than  thou  trowest, 
Set  less  than  than  thou  throwest. 

(KcmftUCt  —  Epidetus. 
rjPON  every  fresh  accident,  turn  your  eyes  inward  and  examine 
how  your  are  qualified  to  encounter  it.  If  you  see  any  very 
beautiful  person,  you  will  find  Continence  to  oppose  against  the 
temptation.  If  labour  and  difficulty  come  in  your  way,  you  will 
find  a  remedy  in  Hardiness  and  Resolution.  If  you  lie  under  the 
obloquy  of  an  ill  tongue,  Patience  and  Meekness  are  the  proper 
fences  against  it. 

(ftOttfMCt.  —  Shakspeare. 
Things  ill  got  had  ever  bad  success. 

(ftOTttmct  —  Seneca. 
I"  WILL  govern  my  life,  and  my  thoughts,  as  if  the  whole  world 
were  to  see  the  one,  and  to  read  the  other  j  for  what  does  it 
signify,  to  make  any  thing  a  secret  to  my  neighbour,  when  to  God 
(who  is  the  searcher  of  our  hearts)  all  our  privacies  are  open  ? 

(ftmrtJUCt—  Fuller. 

A  LL  tbe  while  thou  livest  ill,  thou  hast  the  trouble,  distraction, 
inconveniences  of  life,  but  not  the  sweets  and  true  use  of  it. 

(ftOUfcltCt.  —Epidetus. 
A  S  in  walking  it  is  your  great  care  not  to  run  }Tour  foot  upon  a 
nail,  or  to  tread  awry,  and  strain  your  leg;  so  let  it  be  in  all  the 
Affairs  of  Human  Life,  not  to  hurt  your  Mind,  or  offend  your  Judg- 
ment.    And  this  rule,  if  observed  carefully  in  all  your  deportment, 
will  be  a  mighty  security  to  you  in  your  undertakings. 

GtontJUCt.  —  Shakspeare. 
(~)BEY  thy  parents,  keep  thy  word  justly;  swear  not;  commit 
not  with  man's  sworn  spouse;  set  not  thy  sweet  heart  on  proud 
array.  .   .  .  Keep  thy  foot  out  of  brothels,  thy  pen  from  lenders' 
books. 

(ftontntCt.  —  Joanna  Baillie. 
[  WOULD,  God  knows,  in  a  poor  woodman's  hut 

Have  spent  my  peaceful  days,  and  shared  my  crust 
With  her  who  would  have  cheer'd  me,  rather  far 
Than  on  this  throne ;  but  being  what  I  am, 
I'll  be  it  nobly. 


0 R,     THIXG S   NE  W  AND    OLD.  69 

(Conduct  —Joanna  BailUe. 
T  TAKE  of  worthy  men  whate'er  they  give : 

Their  Heart  I  gladly  take,  if  not  their  Hand ) 
If  that  too  is  withheld,  a  courteous  Word, 
Or  the  Civility  of  placid  Looks. 

(EcnfcUCt.  —Pope. 
TirHEX  we  are  young,  we  are  slavishly  employed  in  procuring 
something  whereby  we  may  live  comfortably  when  we  grow 
old ;  and  when  we  are  old,  we  perceive  it  is  too  late  to  live  as  we 
proposed. 

(TorrtJUCt.  —  Coicper. 

Disgust  conceal'd 
Is  oft-times  proof  of  Wisdom,  when  the  fault 
Is  obstinate,  and  cure  beyond  our  reach. 

(TontJUCt.  —  Shakspcare. 
Self-love  is  not  so  vile  a  sin 
As  self-neglecting. 

(EontlUCt.—  Byron. 

To  what  gulphs 
A  single  deviation  from  the  track 
Of  Human  Duties  leads  even  those  who  claim 
The  homage  of  mankind  as  their  born  due, 
And  find  it,  till  they  forfeit  it  themselves  ! 

(ConTmrt.  —  Cowper. 

TTE  that  negotiates  between  God  and  Man, 

As  God's  Ambassador,  the  grand  concerns 
Of  Judgment  and  of  Mercy,  should  beware 
Of  lightness  in  his  speech.     ;Tis  pitiful 
To  court  a  grin,  when  you  should  woo  a  soul; 
To  break  a  jest,  when  pity  would  inspire 
Pathetic  exhortation ;  and  address 
The  skittish  fancy  with  facetious  tales, 
When  sent  with  God's  commission  to  the  heart ! 

(Coirtmrt.  —Joanna  Baillie. 
nrO  whom  do  lions  cast  their  gentle  looks? 

Not  to  the  beast  that  would  usurp  their  den. 
Whose  hand  is  that  the  forest  bear  doth  lick? 
Not  his  that  spoils  her  young  before  her  face. 
Who  'scapes  the  lurking  serpent's  mortal  sting? 
Not  he  that  sets  his  foot  upon  her  back. 
The  smallest  worm  will  turn,  being  trodden  on ; 
And  doves  will  peck,  in  safeguard  of  their  brood. 


70  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

(ContJUCt.  —  Milton. 

Only  add 
Deeds  to  thy  Knowledge  answerable,  add  Faith, 
Add  Virtue,  Patience,  Temperance,  add  Love, 
By  name  to  come  call'd  Charity,  the  soul 
Of  all  the  rest :  then  wilt  thou  not  be  loath 
To  leave  this  Paradise,  but  shalt  possess 
A  Paradise  within  thee,  happier  far. 

(COttOUCt.  —  Milton. 

Son  of  Heav'n  and  Earth, 
Attend  :  that  tnou  art  happy,  owe  to  God  ; 
That  thou  continuest  such,  owe  to  thyself, 
That  is,  to  thy  Obedience  ;  therein  stand. 

(Confession.— Pope. 

A   MAN  should  never  be  ashamed  to  own  he  has  been  in  the 
wrong,  which  is  but  saying  in  other  words,  that  he  is  wiser 
to-day  than  he  was  yesterday. 

(Confidence.  —  Shakspeare. 
Trust  not  him  that  hath  once  broken  Faith. 

(Confidence.  —  Cotton. 

""WHEN  young,  we  trust  ourselves  too  much,  and  we  trust  others 
too  little  when  old.  Rashness  is  the  error  of  Youth,  timid 
caution  of  Age.  Manhood  is  the  isthmus  between  the  two  ex- 
tremes ;  the  ripe  and  fertile  season  of  Action,  when  alone  we  can 
hope  to  find  the  head  to  contrive,  united  with  the  hand  to  execute. 

(Confidence.  —  Lavater. 
TRUST  him  little  who  praises  all,  him  less  who  censures  all,  and 
him  least  who  is  indifferent  about  all. 

(&f}Tt8titrtCt.— Addison. 

A  MAN'S  first  care  should  be  to  avoid  the  reproaches  of  his  own 
Heart;  his  next,  to  escape  the  censures  of  the  World.  If  the 
last  interferes  with  the  former,  it  ought  to  be  entirely  neglected ; 
but  otherwise  there  cannot  be  a  greater  satisfaction  to  an  honest 
mind,  than  to  see  those  approbations  which  it  gives  itself  seconded 
by  the  applauses  of  the  public. 

(Conscience.  —  Coiton. 

TATE  should  have  all  our  communications  with  men,  as  in  the 
presence  of  God ;  and  with  God,  as  in  the  presence  of  men. 

(Conscience.  —  Coiton. 

T^HE  Breast  of  a  good  man  is  a  little  heaven  commencing  on  earth; 

where  the  Deity  sits  enthroned  with  unrivalled  influence,  every 

subjugated  passion,  "  like  the  wind  and  storm,  fulfilling  his  word/'' 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  71 

Conscience.  — .ra^. 

HTHE  most  reckless  Sinner  against  his  own  Conscience  has  always 
in  the  background  the  consolation,  that  he  will  go  on  in  this 
course  only  this  time,  or  only  so  long,  but  that  at  such  a  time  he 
will  amend.  We  may  be  assured  that  we  do  not  stand  clear  with 
our  own  Consciences,  so  long  as  we  determine,  or  project,  or  even 
hold  it  possible,  at  some  future  time  to  alter  our  course  of  action. 

Conscience.  —  South. 

A  PALSY  may  as  well  shake  an  oak,  or  a  fever  dry  up  a  fountain, 
as  either  of  them  shake,  dry  up,  or  impair  the  delight  of  Con- 
science. For  it  lies  within,  it  centres  in  the  heart,  it  grows  into 
the  very  substance  of  the  soul,  so  that  it  accompanies  a  man  to  his 
grave ;  he  never  outlives  it,  and  that  for  this  cause  only,  because 
he  cannot  outlive  himself. 

Conscience. —Horace. 

~^OT  even  for  an  hour  can  you  bear  to  be  alone,  nor  can  you 
advantageously  apply  your  leisure  time,  but  you  endeavour,  a 
fugitive  and  wanderer,  to  escape  from  yourself,  now  vainly  seeking 
to  banish  Remorse  by  wine,  and  now  b}T  sleep;  but  the  gloomy 
companion  presses  on  you,  and  pursues  you  as  you  fly. 

Conscience.  —  Shdkspeare. 
Unnatural  deeds 
Do  breed  unnatural  troubles  :  Infected  minds 
To  their  deaf  pillows  will  discharge  their  secrets. 

Conscience.  —  South. 

]V"0  man  ever  offended  his  own  Conscience,  but  first  or  last  it  was 
^     revenged  upon  him  for  it. 

Conscience.  —  Shdkspeare. 
QONSCIENCE,  it  makes  a  man  a  coward;  a  man  cannot  steal,  but 
it  accuseth  him ;  a  man  cannot  swear,  but  it  checks  him ;  a  man 
cannot  lie  with  his  neighbour's  wife,  but  it  detects  him. 

Conscience.— Fuller. 

TF  thou  wouldst  be  informed  what  God  has  written  concerning  thee 
in  Heaven,  look  into  thine  own  Bosom,  and  see  what  graces  he 
hath  there  wrought  in  thee. 

Conscience.  —  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
(^JAN  any  thing  be  more  dreadful  than  the  Thought,  that  an  in- 
nocent child  has  inherited  from  you  a  disease,  or  a  weakness, 
the  penalty  in  yourself  of  sin,  or  want  of  caution  ? 

Conscience.  —  Fuller. 

A  GUILTY  Conscience  is  like  a  whirlpool,  drawing  in  all  to  itself 
which  would  otherwise  pass  by. 
g2 


72  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

Conscience*  —  Shakspeare. 
\\THO  would  bear  the  whips  and  scorns  of  Time, 

The  Oppressor's  wrong,  the  Proud  Man's  contumely, 
The  pangs  of  despised  Love,  the  Law's  delay, 
The  insolence  of  Office,  and  the  spurns 
That  patient  Merit  of  the  unworthy  takes, 
When  he  himself  might  his  quietus  make 
With  a  bare  bodkin  ?  who  would  fardels  bear, 
To  grunt  and  sweat  under  a  weary  life ; 
But  that  the  dread  of  something  after  death, — 
The  undiscover'd  country,  from  whose  bourn 
No  traveller  returns, — puzzles  the  will; 
And  makes  us  rather  bear  those  ills  we  have, 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of? 
Thus  Conscience  doth  make  cowards  of  us  all ; 
And  thus  the  native  hue  of  Resolution 
Is  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  Thought; 
And  enterprises  of  great  pith  and  moment, 
With  this  regard,  their  currents  turn  awry, 
And  lose  the  name  of  Action. 

Conscience,  —  Mason. 

'Tis  ever  thus 
With  noble  minds,  if  chance  they  slide  to  folly ; 
Remorse  stings  deeper,  and  relentless  Conscience, 
Pours  more  of  gall  into  the  bitter  cup 
Of  their  severe  Repentance. 

Conscience.  —  Shakspeare. 
'TRY  what  Repentance  can.     What  can  it  not? 

Yet  what  can  it,  when  one  cannot  repent  ? 
O  wretched  state !  0  bosom,  black  as  death  ! 
0  limed  soul,  that,  struggling  to  be  free, 
Art  more  engaged ! 

Conscience.  —  Coiton. 

TO  be  satisfied  with  the  Acquittal  of  the  World,  though  accom- 
panied with  the  secret  Condemnation  of  Conscience,  this  is  the 
mark  of  a  little  mind ;  but  it  requires  a  soul  of  no  common  stamp 
to  be  satisfied  with  its  own  Acquittal,  and  to  despise  the  Condemna- 
tion of  the  World. 

<£tmmtVltt.  —  Shakspeare. 
T^THAT  stronger  breast-plate  than  a  Heart  untainted? 

Thrice  is  he  arm'd,  that  hath  his  quarrel  just; 
And  he  but  naked,  though  lock'd  up  in  steel, 
Whose  Conscience  with  Injustice  is  corrupted. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  73 

<&Q1l8timtt.— Dryden. 

Here,  here  it  lies  :  a  lump  of  lead  by  day ; 
And  in  my  short,  distracted,  nightly  slumbers, 
The  hag  that  rides  my  dreams. 

(Conscience.  —  Steele. 
rFHE  "World  will  never  be  in  any  manner  of  order  or  tranquillity, 
until  men  are  firmly  convinced,  that  Conscience,  Honour,  and 
Credit  are  all  in  one  interest ;  and  that  without  the  concurrence 
of  the  former,  the  latter  are  but  impositions  upon  ourselves  and 
others. 

(Conscience.— Milton. 

TTE  that  has  light  within  his  own  clear  Breast, 
May  sit  i'  th'  centre,  and  enjoy  bright  day  : 
But  he  that  hides  a  dark  Soul,  and  foul  Thoughts, 
Benighted  walks  under  the  mid-day  sun  : 
Himself  is  his  own  dungeon. 

(Conscience.  —  Young. 
rjONSCIENCE,  what  art  thou?  thou  tremendous  power! 

Who  dost  inhabit  us  without  our  leave; 
And  art  within  ourselves,  another  self, 
A  master-self,  that  loves  to  domineer, 
And  treat  the  monarch  frankly  as  the  slave  : 
How  dost  thou  light  a  torch  to  distant  deeds  ? 
Make  the  past,  present,  and  the  future  frown  ? 
How,  ever  and  anon,  awake  the  soul, 
As  with  a  peal  of  thunder,  to  strange  horrors, 
In  this  long  restless  dream,  which  idiots  hug, 
Nay,  wise  men  flatter  with  the  name  of  life. 

(Conscience.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
Thou  turn'st  mine  eyes  into  my  very  Soul ; 
And  there  I  see  such  black  and  grained  spots, 
As  will  not  leave  their  tinct. 

(Conscience.  —  Shakspeare. 

Better  be  with  the  dead, 
"Whom  we,  to  gain  our  place,  have  sent  to  peace, 
Than  on  the  Torture  of  the  Mind  to  lie 
In  restless  ecstasy. 

(Conscience.  —  Cmbbe. 

QH  !  Conscience !  Conscience !  Man's  most  faithful  friend, 

Him  canst  thou  comfort,  ease,  relieve,  defend : 
But  if  he  will  thy  friendly  checks  forego, 
Thou  art,  oh !  wo  for  me,  his  deadliest  foe  ! 


74  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

(KonSCtntCC.  —  Byron. 

Horror  and  doubt  distract 
His  troubled  Thoughts,  and  from  the  bottom  stir 
The  Hell  within  him ;  for  within  him  Hell 
He  brings,  and  round  about  him,  nor  from  Hell 
One  step  no  more  than  from  himself  can  fly 
By  change  of  place. 

(EfmXtitntZ.  — Byron. 
Y^T  still  there  whispers  the  Small  Voice  within, 

Heard  through  Gain's  silence,  and  o'er  Glory's  din 
Whatever  creed  be  taught  or  land  be  trod, 
Man's  Conscience  is  the  oracle  of  God ! 

(&$mtizmt.  — Byron. 
HPHE  Mind,  that  broods  o'er  guilty  woes, 

Is  like  the  scorpion  girt  by  fire, 
In  circle  narrowing  as  it  glows, 
The  flames  around  their  captive  close, 
Till  inly  search'd  by  thousand  throes, 

And  maddening  in  her  ire, 
One  and  sole  relief  she  knows : 
The  sting  she  nourish'd  for  her  foes, 
Whose  venom  never  yet  was  vain, 
Gives  but  one  pang,  and  cures  all  pain, 
And  darts  into  her  desperate  brain. 
So  do  the  dark  in  Soul  expire, 
Or  live  like  scorpion  girt  by  fire ; 
So  writhes  the  Mind  Remorse  hath  riven, 
Unfit  for  earth,  undoom'd  for  Heaven, 
Darkness  above,  despair  beneath, 
Around  it  flame,  within  it  death  ! 

<£cn0CtenCC.  —  Shakspeare. 

I  feel  within  me 
A  peace  above  all  earthly  dignities, 
A  still  and  quiet  Conscience. 

(£0n!5CtenCC.  —  Shakspeare. 
My  Conscience  hath  a  thousand  several  tongues, 
And  every  tongue  brings  in  a  several  tale, 
And  every  tale  condemns  me  for  a  Villain. 

(Conscience.  —  Byron. 

There  is  no  future  pang 
Can  deal  that  justice  on  the  self-condemn'd 
He  deals  on  his  own  soul. 


OR,    %HINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  75 

(CcmSCtCIUSttCSS.  —  Bruyere. 
T'O  feel  tbe  want  of  reason  is  next  to  having  it;  an  idiot  is  not 
capable  of  this  sensation.  The  best  thing  next  to  wit  is  a  Con- 
sciousness that  it  is  not  in  us;  without  wit,  a  man  might  then 
know  how  to  behave  himself,  so  as  not  to  appear  to  be  a  fool  or  a 
coxcomb. 

(ConScqitCnCCS.  —  Cotton. 

A  S  the  dimensions  of  the  tree  are  not  always  regulated  by  the 
size  of  the  seed,  so  the  Consequences  of  things  are  not  always 
proportionate  to  the  apparent  magnitude  of  those  events  that  have 
produced  them.  Thus,  the  American  Revolution,  from  which  little 
was  expected,  produced  much;  but  the  French  Revolution,  from 
which  much  was  expected,  produced  little. 

(Consolation.  —  Rousseau. 
(CONSOLATION  indiscreetly  pressed  upon  us,  when  we  are  suffer- 
ing under  affliction,  only  serves  to  increase  our  pain,  and  to 
render  our  grief  more  poignant. 

(Conspttaq).  —  Shakspeare. 
0  Conspiracy  ! 
Sham'st  thou  to  show  thy  dangerous  brow  by  night, 
When  evils  are  most  free  ?     0,  then,  by  day, 
Where  wilt  thou  find  a  cavern  dark  enough 
To  mask  thy  monstrous  visage?     Seek  none,  Conspiracy; 
Hide  it  in  smiles  and  affability. 

(Contemplation.— Burnet. 

HTHERE  is  no  lasting  pleasure  but  Contemplation;  all  others 
grow  flat  and  insipid  upon  frequent  use;  and  when  a  man  hath 
run  through  a  set  of  vanities,  in  the  declension  of  his  age,  he 
knows  not  what  to  do  with  himself,  if  he  cannot  think :  he  saunters 
about  from  one  dull  business  to  another,  to  wear  out  time;  and 
hath  no  reason  to  value  Life  but  because  he  is  afraid  of  Death. 

(Contempt.  —  8hakspeare. 

MAJESTY  might  never  yet  endure 
The  moody  frontier  of  a  servant  brow. 

(Contempt.—  Byron. 

Pardon  is  for  men, 
And  not  for  reptiles — we  have  none  for  Steno, 
And  no  resentment;  things  like  him  must  sting, 
And  higher  beings  suffer:  'tis  the  charter 
Of  life.     The  man  who  dies  by  the  adder's  fang 
May  have  the  crawler  crush'd,  but  feels  no  anger: 
'Twas  the  worm's  nature;  and  some  men  are  worms 
In  soul  more  than  the  living  things  of  tombs. 


76  ILLUSTRATIOXS    OF    TRUTH; 

(Contempt.  —  Shakspeare. 

"What  valour  were  it,  when  a  cur  doth  grin, 
For  one  to  thrust  his  hand  between  his  teeth, 
When  he  might  spurn  him  with  his  foot  away? 

(Contempt.  —  Chesterfield. 
TT  is  very  often  more  necessary  to  conceal  Contempt  than  Resent- 
ment, the  former  being  never  forgiven,  but  the  latter  sometimes 
forgot. 

(Contempt.  —  Massing*-. 

The  Prince  that  pardons 
The  first  affront  offer'd  to  Majesty, 
Invites  a  second,  rendering  that  power, 
Subjects  should  tremble  at,  contemptible. 
Ingratitude  is  a  monster, 
To  be  strangled  in  the  birth. 

(Content.  —  Spenser. 
TT  is  the  Mynd  that  maketh  good  or  ill, 

That  maketh  wretch  or  happie,  rich  or  poore ; 
For  some,  that  hath  abundance  at  his  will, 
Hath  not  enough,  but  wants  in  greatest  store ; 
And  other,  that  hath  little,  asks  no  more, 
But  in  that  little  is  both  rich  and  wise ; 
For  Wisdome  is  most  riches ;  Fooles  therefore 
They  are  which  Fortune's  doe  by  vowes  devize, 
Sith  each  unto  himself  his  life  may  fortunize. 

(Content.  —  Shakspeare. 

Best  State,  contentless 
Hath  a  distracted  and  most  wretched  being, 
Worse  than  the  worse,  Content. 

(Content.  —  Shakspeare. 
He  that  commends  me  to  mine  own  Content, 
Commends  me  to  the  thing  I  cannot  get. 

(Content.  —  Shakspeare. 

"AfY  Crown  is  in  my  Heart,  not  on  my  Head; 

Xot  deck'd  with  diamonds  and  Indian  stones, 
2s or  to  be  seen  :  my  Crown  is  called  Content; 
A  Crown  it  is  that  seldom  Kings  enjoy. 

Content.  —Shakspeare. 
Poor,  and  Content,  is  rich  and  rich  enough; 
But  riches,  fineless,  is  as  poor  as  winter, 
To  him  that  ever  fears  he  shall  be  poor. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  77 

(Content.  —  Mrs.  Sigourney. 
THINK'ST  thou  the  man  whose  mansions  hold 
The  worldling's  pomp  and  miser's  gold, 
Obtains  a  richer  prize 
Than  he  who,  in  his  cot  at  rest, 
Finds  heavenly  peace  a  willing  guest, 
And  bears  the  promise  in  his  breast 
Of  treasure  in  the  skies? 

(Contentment.  —  Tucker. 
HTHE  Point  of  Aim  for  our  Vigilance  to  hold  in  view,  is  to  dwell 
upon  the   brightest   parts   in  every  prospect,  to  call  off  the 
Thoughts  when  running  upon  disagreeable  Objects,  and  strive  to 
be  pleased  with  the  present  circumstances  surrounding  us. 

(Contentment.—  Cotton. 

T'HERE  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  seat  of  perfect  Contentment  is 
in  the  Head ;  for  every  individual  is  thoroughly  satisfied  with 
his  own  proportion  of  Brains.  Socrates  was  so  well  aware  of  this, 
that  he  would  not  start  as  a  Teacher  of  Truth,  but. as  an  Inquirer 
after  it.  As  a  teacher,  he  would  have  had  many  disputers,  but  no 
disciples  :  he  therefore  adopted  the  humbler  mode  of  investigation, 
and  instilled  his  knowledge  into  others,  under  the  mask  of  seeking 
information  from  them. 

Contentment.—  Crevitte. 

"\VITHOUT  Content,  we  shall  find  it  almost  as  difficult  to  please 
others  as  ourselves. 

(Conttgut'tl?.  —  GremUe. 
"IV  TEN  and  Statues  that  are  admired  in  an  elevated  Situation,  have 
a  very  different  effect  upon  us  when  we  approach  them  :  the 
first  appear  less  than  we  imagined  them,  the  last  bigger. 

(ContttJUttj).  —  Cotton. 
CPEAKINGr  generally,  no  man  appears  great  to  his  Contempo- 
raries, for  the  same  reason  that  no  man  is  great  to  his  Servants 
— both  know  too  much  of  him. 

Self  (Control.  —  Cato. 

T  THIXK  the  first  Virtue  is  to  restrain  the  Tongue  :  he  approaches 
nearest  to  the  Gods,  who  knows  how  to  be  silent,  even  though 
he  is  in  the  right. 

Self  (Control  —  Shalcspeare. 
Better  conquest  never  can'st  thou  make, 
Than  arm  thy  constant  and  thy  nobler  Parts 
Against  giddy,  loose  Suggestions. 


TV 


78  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF  TRUTH; 

(ftOtttrobergg.  —  Butler. 

TTE  could  raise  Scruples  dark  and  nice, 

And  after  solve  'em  in  a  trice; 
As  if  Divinity  bad  catch'd 
The  itch  on  purpose  to  be  scratch'd. 

(ftontrobctsj;.  —  coiton. 

^E  are  more  inclined  to  hate  one  another  for  Points  on  which 
we  differ,  than  to  love  one  another  for  Points  on  which  we 
agree.  The  reason  perhaps  is  this;  when  we  find  others  that  agree 
with  us,  we  seldom  trouble  ourselves  to  confirm  that  Agreement; 
but  when  we  chance  on  those  that  differ  with  us,  we  are  zealous 
both  to  convince,  and  to  convert  them.  Our  Pride  is  hurt  bv  the 
Failure,  and  disappointed  Pride  engenders  Hatred. 

(C01ltrcbcrS|).  —  Dryden. 
T  TELL  thee,  Mufti,  if  the  world  were  wise, 

They  would  not  wag  one  finger  in  thy  quarrels  : 
Your  Heav'n  you  promise,  but  our  Earth  you  covet, 
The  Phaetons  of  mankind,  who  fire  that  world 
Which  you  were  sent  by  preaching  but  to  warm. 

lUltgtiniJS  ©MrtrobetSg.  —  Dryden. 

TS  not  the  Care  of  Souls  a  load  sufficient? 

Are  not  your  holy  stipends  paid  for  this  ? 
Were  you  not  bred  apart  from  worldly  noise, 
To  study  Souls,  their  Cures  and  their  Diseases  ? 
The  province  of  the  Soul  is  large  enough 
To  fill  up  every  cranny  of  your  time, 
And  leave  you  much  to  answer,  if  one  wretch 
Be  damn'd  by  your  neglect. 

(ftOttbetJBatUm,  —  Addison. 
r^XE  would  think  that  the  larger  the  Company  is  in  which  we  are 
engaged,  the  greater  variety  of  Thoughts  and  Subjects  would 
be  started  into  discourse ;  but  instead  of  this,  we  find  that  Conver- 
sation is  never  so  much  straitened  and  confined  as  in  numerous 
assemblies. 

(ftottbetsattwi.  —  Coiton. 

VyHEN  we  are  in  the  Company  of  sensible  men,  we  ought  to  be 
doubly  cautious  of  talking  too  much,  lest  we  lose  two  good 
things,  their  good  opinion,  and  our  own  improvement;  for  what  we 
have  to  say  we  know,  but  what  they  have  to  say  we  know  not. 

(Tcnbcrsattcm.  — Adi&on. 

TN  private  Conversation  between  intimate  Friends,  the  wisest  men 
very  often  talk  like  the  weakest ;  for  indeed  the  talking  with  a 
Friend  is  nothing  else  but  thinking;  aloud. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD.  79 

(ftonbersatum.  —  La  Brut/ere. 
7 THERE  is  speaking  well,  speaking  easily,  speaking  justly,  and 
speaking  seasonably :  It  is  offending  against  the  last,  to  speak 
of  entertainments  before  the  indigent ;  of  sound  limbs  and  health 
before  the  infirm )  of  houses  and  lands  before  one  who  has  not  so 
much  as  a  dwelling ;  in  a  word,  to  speak  of  your  prosperity  before 
the  miserable ;  this  Conversation  is  cruel,  and  the  comparison 
which  naturally  arises  in  them  betwixt  their  condition  and  yours 
is  excruciating. 

(ftfJttuerSattOtt.  —  La  Brwjere. 
A  MONGST  such  as  out  of  Cunning  hear  all  and  talk  little,  be 
sure  to  talk  less ;  or  if  you  must  talk,  say  little. 

(ftonbersattcm.  —  Burke. 

rFHE  Perfection  of  Conversation  is  not  to  play  a  regular  sonata, 
but,  like  the  iEolian  harp,  to  await  the  Inspiration  of  the  pass- 
ing breeze. 

(£m\btx$ation.  —  Johnson. 

pTE  only  will  please  long,  who  by  tempering  the  acidity  of  Satire 
with  the  sugar  of  Civility,  and  allaying  the  heat  of  Wit  with 
the  frigidity  of  Humble  Chat,  can  make  the  true  Punch  of  Conver- 
sation ;  and  as  that  punch  can  be  drunk  in  the  greatest  quantity 
which  has  the  largest  proportion  of  water,  so  that  Companion  will 
be  oftenest  welcome,  whose  Talk  flows  out  with  unoffensive  copi- 
ousness, and  unenvied  insipidity. 

(Conbcrsatton.  —  Steele. 

TT  is  a  Secret  known  but  to  few,  yet  of  no  small  use  in  the  con- 
duct of  Life,  that  when  you  fall  into  a  man's  Conversation,  the 
first  thing  you  should  consider  is,  whether  he  has  a  greater  inclina- 
tion to  hear  you,  or  that  you  should  hear  him. 

(Ctmbersatum.  —  Sir  William  Temple. 
TN  Conversation,  Humour  is  more  than  Wit,  Easiness  more  than 
Knowledge  j  few  desire  to  learn,  or  to  think  they  need  it ;  all 
desire  to  be  pleased,  or,  if  not,  to  be  easy. 

(Tonbersation.  —  coUen. 

gOME  men  are  very  entertaiuing  for  a  first  Interview,  but  after 
that  they  are  exhausted,  and  run  out;  on  a  second  Meeting  we 
shall  find  them  very  flat  and  monotonous  :    like   hand-organs,  we 
have  heard  all  their  tunes. 

(£onber0at(OTT.  —  Lamter. 
TTE  who  sedulously  attends,  pointedly  asks,  calmly  speaks,  coolly 
answers,  and  ceases  when  he  has  no  more  to  say,  is  in  posses- 
sion of  some  of  the  best  requisites  of  Man. 

II 


ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 


S 


JH 


ttonberaatum.  —  CoUon. 

OME  Praters  are  so  full  of  their  own  Gabble,  and  so  fond  of 
their  own  Discord,  that  they  would  not  suspend  their  eternal 
Monotonies,  to  hear  the  Wit  of  Sheridan,  or  the  Point  of  Swift; 
one  might  as  well  attempt  to  stop  the  saw  of  a  task-working  stone- 
cutter, by  the  melodies  of  an  iEoHan  harp.  Others  again  there  are, 
who  hide  that  Ignorance  in  silent  Gravity  that  these  expose  by  silly 
Talk  ;  but  they  are  so  coldly  correct,  and  .so  methodically  dull,  that 
any  attempt  to  raise  the  slumbering  sparks  of  Genius  by  means  of 
such  instruments,  would  be  to  stir  up  a  languishing  fire  with  a 
]  ker  of  ice.  There  is  a  third  class,  forming  a  great  majority, 
being  a  heavy  compound  of  the  two  former,  and  possessing  many 
of  the  properties  peculiar  to  each;  thus  they  have  just  Ignorauce 
enough  to  talk  amongst  Fools,  and  just  Sense  enough  to  be  silent 
amongst  Wits.  But  they  have  no  Vivacity  in  themselves,  nor 
relish  for  it  in  another:  to  attempt  to  keep  up  the  ball  of  Conver- 
sation with  such  partners  would  be  to  play  a  game  of  Fives  against 
a  bed  of  feathers. 

(Tonbr  rsation.  —  Addison. 

AT  part  of  life  which  we  ordinarily  understand  by  the  word 
Conversation,  is  an  indulgence  to  the  sociable  part  of  our  make  ; 
and  should  incline  us  to  bring  our  proporti  n  y:>f  good-will  or  good- 
liiunour  among  the  Friends  we  meet  with,  and  not  to  trouble  them 
with  relations  which  must  of  necessity  oblige  them  to  a  real  or 
d  affliction.  Cares,  distresses,  diseases,  uneasinesses,  and  dis- 
likes of  our  own.  are  by  no  means  to  be  obtruded  upon  our  Fric 
If  we  would  consider  how  little  of  this  vicissitude  of  motion  and 
rest,  which  we  call  life,  is  spent  with  satisfaction,  we  should  be  more 
tender  of  our  friends,  than  to  bring  them  little  sorrows  which  do 
not  belong  to  tlum.  There  is  no  real  life  but  cheerful  life;  there- 
fore valetudinarians  should  be  sworn,  before  they  enter  into  Com- 
pany, not  to  say  a  word  of  themselves  until  the  meeting  breaks  up. 

iToiUlfl'SatlOn.—  From  the  French. 
CI  PEAK  little  and  well  if  you  wish  to  be  considered  as  possessing 
merit. 

(fonluu'sattcm.— FuUer. 

^VEYE1\  contend  with  one  that  is  foolish,  proud,  positive,  testy; 
""      or  with  a  superior,  or  a  clown,  in  matter  of  Argument. 

©onbetsatton.  _  Steele. 

r>EAUTY  is  never  so   lovely  as  when  adorned  with  the   Smile, 
and  Conversation  never  sits  easier  upon  us  than  when  we  now 
and  then   discharge  ourselves  in  a  symphony  of  Laughter,  which 
\i.:.y  not  improperly  be  called  the  Chorus  of  Conversation. 


JJ 


(r 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND   OLD.  81 

(Tonbcrsatum.  —  Swift. 

"\"OTHIXG  is  more  generally  exploded  than  the  folly  of  talking 
"*"  too  much ;  yet  I  rarely  remember  to  have  seen  five  people  to- 
gether, where  some  one  among  them  has  not  been  predominant  in 
that  kind,  to  the  great  constraint  and  disgust  of  all  the  rest.  But 
among  such  as  deal  in  Multitudes  of  Words,  none  are  comparable  tc 
the  sober  deliberate  Talker,  who  proceeds  with  much  thought  and 
caution,  makes  his  preface,  branches  out  into  several  digressions, 
finds  a  hint  that  puts  him  in  mind  of  another  Story,  which  he  pro- 
mises to  tell  you  when  this  is  done;  comes  back  regularly  to  his 
subject,  cannot  readily  call  to  mind  some  person's  name,  holding 
his  head,  complains  of  his  memory:  the  whole  Company  all  this 
while  is  in  suspense;  at  length,  he  "says  it  is  no  matter,  and  sc 
goes  on.  And,  to  crown  the  business,  it  perhaps  proves  at  last  a 
Story  the  Company  has  heard  fifty  times  before. 

(TonuCrSattCm.  —  Sir  William  Temple. 
rFHE  first  ingredient  in  Conversation  is  Truth,  the  next  Good 
Sense,  the  third  Good  Humour,  and  the  fourth  Wit. 

(TonbctSattCtt.  —  La  Rocli»foucauld. 
HP  HE  extreme   pleasure  we   take    in   talking  of  ourselves  should 
make  us  fear  that  we  give  very  little  to  those  who  listen  to  us. 

(fonbersattcm.—  Sir  iff. 

ONE  of  the  best  Rules  in  Conversation  is,  never  to  say  a  thing 
which  an}-  of  the  Company  can  reasonably  wish  we  had  rather 
left  unsaid  :  nor  can  there  any  thing  be  well  more  contrary  to  the 
ends  for  which  people  meet  together,  than  to  part  unsatisfied  with 
each  other  or  themselves. 

(ft  0  U  b  C  rs  a  1 1 0  tt .  —  VoUa  ire. 
HTHE  secret  of  tiring  is  to  say  every  thing  that  can  be  said  on  the 
subject. 

(Conbcrsatton.  —  La  RociirfoucauU. 

ONE  thing  which  makes  us  (ind  so  few  people  who  appear  rea- 
sonable and  agreeable  in  Conversation  is,  that  there  is  scarcely 
any  one  who  does  not  think  more  of  what  he  is  about  to  say  than  of 
answering  precisely  what  is  said  to  him.  The  cleverest  and  most 
complaisant  people  content  themselves  with  merely  showing  an  at- 
tentive Countenance,  while  we  can  see  in  their  eyes  and  mind  a 
wandering  from  what  is  said  to  them,  and  an  impatience  to  return 
to  what  they  wish  to  say;  instead  of  reflecting  that  it  is  a  bad 
method  of  pleasing  or  persuading  others,  to  be  so  studious  of  pleas- 
ing oneself;  and  that  listening  well  and  answering  well  is  one  of 
the  (ireatest  Perfections  that  can  be  attained  in  Conversation. 


82  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

(tfonbctsation.  —  Ooiton. 

1XTHEN"   I    meet  with    any   that   write    obscurely,    or    converse 
confusedly,  I  am  apt  to  suspect  two  things ;  first,  that  such 
persons  do  not  understand  themselves;  and,  secondly,  that  they  are 
not  worthy  of  being  understood  by  others. 

(JTonbcrston.  —  Coiton. 

'THE  most  zealous  Converters  are  always  the  most  rancorous, 
when  they  fail  of  producing  Conviction ;  but  when  they  succeed, 
they  love  their  new  Disciples  far  better  than  those  whose  establish- 
ment in  the  Faith  neither  excited  their  zeal  to  the  combat,  nor  re- 
warded their  prowess  with  victory. 

(ftonbcrgton.—  Goethe. 

A  S  to  the  value  of  Conversions,  God  alone  can  judge.     God  alone 

can  know  how  wide  are  the  steps  which  the  soul  has  to  take 

before  it  can  approach  to  a  Community  with  him,  to  the  dwelling 

of   the  Perfect,  or  to    the  Intercourse   and  Friendship  of  higher 

natures. 

(ftOltbtbtaittp.  —  Armstrong. 
"\\THAT  dext'rous  thousands  just  within  the  goal 
Of  wild  Debauch  direct  their  nightly  course  ! 
Perhaps  no  sickly  qualms  bedim  their  days, 
No  morning  admonitions  shock  the  head. 
But  ah !  what  woes  remain  ?  life  rolls  apace, 
And  that  incurable  disease,  old  age, 
In  youthful  bodies  more  severely  felt, 
More  sternly  active,  shakes  their  blasted  prime. 

(ftOttblbtalttg.  —  Charles  Johnson. 

0  when  we  swallow  down 
Intoxicating  Wine,  we  drink  Damnation ; 
Naked  we  stand  the  sport  of  mocking  fiends, 
Who  grin  to  see  our  noble  nature  vanquish' d, 
Subdued  to  beasts. 

Cfje  (KoqUCtte.  —Joanna  Baillie. 
She  who  only  finds  her  Self-esteem 
In  others'  Admiration,  begs  an  alms ; 
Depends  on  others  for  her  daily  food, 
And  is  the  very  servant  of  her  slaves ; 
Tho'  oftentimes,  in  a  fantastic  hour, 
O'er  men  she  may  a  childish  pow'r  exert, 
Which  not  ennobles,  but  degrades  her  state. 

(Kotruptctf  CalCttt.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
THE  gentleman  is  learn'd,  and  a  most  rare  Speaker, 
To  nature  none  more  bound ;  his  Training  such, 


OR,   THING  S    NEW  AND    OLD.  83 

That  he  may  furnish  and  instruct  great  teachers, 

And  never  seek  for  aid  out  of  himself. 

Yet  see, 

When  these  so  noble  benefits  shall  prove 

Not  well  disposed,  the  mind  growing  once  corrupt, 

They  turn  to  vicious  forms,  ten  times  more  ugly 

Than  ever  they  were  fair. 

(fcomtptimt.  —Burke. 
'THE  age  unquestionably  produces,  (whether  in  a  greater  or  less 
number  than  in  former  times,  I  know  not,)  daring  Profligates 
and  insidious  Hypocrites.  What  then  ?  Am  I  not  to  avail  myself 
of  whatever  good  is  to  be  found  in  the  world,  because  of  the  mix- 
ture of  evil  that  will  always  be  in  it?  The  smallnesa  of  the  quan- 
tity in  currency  only  heightens  the  value. 

(Corruption.  —  Shakspeare. 
(")  THAT  estates,  degrees  and  offices 

Were  not  derived  corruptly  !  and  that  clear  Honour 
Were  purchased  by  the  Merit  of  the  wearer  ! 
How  many  then  should  cover,  that  stand  bare! 
How  many  be  commanded,  that  command  ! 
How  much  low  peasantry  would  then  be  gleau'd 
From  the  true  seed  of  honour !     And  how  much  Honour 
Pick'd  from  the  chaff  and  ruin  of  the  times, 
To  be  new  garnish' d  ! 

(Corruption.—  Coiton. 

A  TEX,  by  associating  in  large  masses,  as  in  camps,  and  in  cities, 
improve  their  Talents,  but  impair  their  Virtues,  an  1  strengthen 
their  Minds,  but  weaken  their  Morals;   thus  a  retrocession  in  the 
one,  is  too  often  the  price  they  pay  for  a  refinement  in  the  other. 

(Corruption.  —  Shakspeare. 
HTHEY  that  have  power  to  hurt  and  will  do  none, 

That  do  not  do  the  thing  they  most  do  show, 
Who,  moving  others,  are  themselves  of  stone, 

Unmoved,  cold,  and  to  temptation  slow; 
They  rightly  do  inherit  Heav'n's  graces, 

And  husband  Nature's  riches  from  expense ; 
They  are  the  lords  and  owners  of  their  faces, 

Others  but  stewards  of  their  excellence. 
The  summer's  flower  is  to  the  summer  sweet, 

Though  to  itself  it  only  live  and  die; 
But  if  that  flower  with  base  Infection  meet, 

The  basest  weed  outbraves  his  dignity; 
For  sweetest  things  turn  sourest  by  their  deeds; 
Lilies  that  fester  smell  far  worse  than  weeds. 
h2 


84  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

OTomipticm.  —  Shakspeare. 

TF  that  the  Heavens  do  not  their  visible  spirits 
Send  quickly  down  to  tame  these  vile  Offences, 
'  Twill  come, 

Humanity  must  perforce  prey  on  itself, 
Like  monsters  of  the  deep. 

OtoUttSeL  —  Fuller. 
Good  Counsels  observed  are  chains  to  grace. 

(EOUmtL  —  Seneca. 
/CONSULT  your  Friend  on  all  things,  especially  on  those  which 
respect  yourself.    His  Counsel  may  then  be  useful,  where  your 
own  self-love  might  impair  your  Judgment. 

(EOUnCtL—  Shdkspeare. 
T  ET  our  Alliance  be  combined, 

Our  best  Friends  made,  and  our  best  Means  stretch'd  out; 
And  let  us  presently  go  sit  in  Council, 
How  covert  matters  may  be  best  disclosed, 
And  open  perils  surest  answer'd. 

(ftOUtttrg*—  MaUeck. 

They  love  their  land  because  it  is  their  own, 
And  scorn  to  give  aught  other  reason  why. 

3H)e  (ftountrp.— miton. 

J^  WILDERNESS  of  sweets;  for  Nature  here 

Wanton' d  as  in  her  prime,  and  play'd  at  will 
Her  virgin  fancies,  pouring  forth  more  sweet, 
Wild  above  rule  or  art,  enormous  bliss. 

(ftCimttg  Htfe.  —  Milton. 

Wisdom's  self 
Oft  seeks  so  sweet  retired  Solitude; 
Where,  with  her  best  nurse,  Contemplation, 
She  plumes  her  feathers,  and  lets  grow  her  wings, 
That  in  the  various  bustle  of  Resort 
Were  all  too  ruffled,  and  sometimes  impair'd. 

(ftOUtttrj)  Utfe.  —  Cowper. 
TTOW  various  his  employments,  whom  the  world 

Calls  idle,  and  who  justly  in  return 
Esteems  that  busy  world  an  idler  too ! 
Friends,  books,  a  Garden,  and  perhaps  his  pen, 
Delightful  industry  enjoyed  at  home, 
And  Nature  in  her  cultivated  trim, 
Dress' d  to  his  taste,  inviting  him  abroad. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  85 

(ftOUtttrj)  Utfe.  —  Thomson. 

Now  from  the  town 
Buried  in  smoke,  and  sleep,  and  noisome  damps, 
Oft  let  me  wander  o'er  the  dewy  Fields, 
Where  freshness  breathes,  and  dash  the  trembling  drops 
From  the  bent  Bush,  as  through  the  verdant  Maze 
Of  Sweet-brier  Hedges  I  pursue  my  walk. 

(Eountq)  ?Ltfe.  —  Cowper. 

''TIS  pleasant  through  the  loop-holes  of  Retreat,. 

To  peep  at  such  a  world. 
To  see  the  stir  of  the  great  Babel,  and  not  feel  the  crowd. 
To  hear  the  roar  she  sends  through  all  her  gates, 
At  a  safe  distance,  where  the  dying  sound 
Falls  a  soft  murmur  oil  th'  uninjur'd  car. 

<£0lUtttg  Hit.— Cowper. 
T'HEY  love  the  Country,  and  none  else,  who  seek 

For  their  own  sake  its  Silence  and  its  Shade: 
Delights  which  who  would  leave  that  has  a  heart 
Susceptible  of  pity,  or  a  mind 
Cultured  and  capable  of  sober  thought. 

(ftmmttj)  Etfe.  —  Coteper. 
CtOD  made  the  Country,  and  man  made  the  Town. 
What  wonder,  then,  that  health  and  virtue,  gifts 
That  can  alone  make  sweet  the  bitter  draught 
That  life  holds  out  to  all,  should  most  abound 
And  least  be  threatened  in  the  Fields  and  Groves. 

(Eoimttj)  Hlft.— Cowper. 
(~)H  for  a  Lodge  in  some  vast  Wilderness, 

Some  boundless  Contiguity  of  Shade, 
Where  rumour  of  oppression  and  deceit, 
Of  unsuccessful  and  successful  war 
Might  never  reach  me  more  !     My  car  is  paiu'd, 
My  soul  is  sick  with  every  day's  report 
Of  wrong  and  outrage  with  which  earth  is  fiU'd. 

(County  ?itfC.  —  Cowper. 
rTHE  spleen  is  seldom  felt  where  Flora  reigns; 
The  low'ring  eye,  the  petulance,  the  frown, 
And  sullen  sadness  that  o'ershade,  distort, 
And  mar  the  face  of  beauty,  when  no  cause 
For  such  immeasurable  wo  appears, 
These  Flora  banishes,  and  gives  the  fair 
Sweet  smiles  and  bloom  less  transient  than  her  own. 


86  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

(tfOUltfCg  1L\U.  — Thomson. 
HTIIRICE  happy  he  !  who  on  the  sunless  side 

Of  a  romantic  Mountain,  Forest  ccown'd, 
Beueath  the  whole  collected  Shade  reclines ; 
Or  in  the  gelid  Caverns,  Wood-bine  wrought, 
And  fresh  bedew'd  with  ever-spouting  Streams, 
Sits  coolly  calm ;  while  all  the  world  without, 
Unsatisfy'd,  and  sick,  tosses  at  noon. 
Emblem  instructive  of  the  virtuous  man, 
Who  keeps  his  temper' d  mind  serene,  and  pure, 
And  every  passion  aptly  harmoniz'd, 
Amid  a  jarring  world  with  vice  inflam'd. 

(ftomttl'g  ILUz.  — Peter  Pindar. 
'THERE  Health,  so  wild  and  gay,  with  bosom  bare, 

And  rosy  cheek,  keen  eye,  and  flowing  hair, 
Trips  with  a  smile  the  breezy  Scene  along, 
And  pours  the  spirit  of  Content  in  song. 

(ftOUttttg  3LtfC  —  Thomson. 
TTERE  too  dwells  simple  Truth;  plain  Innocence; 

Unsullied  Beauty  ;  sound  unbroken  Youth, 
Patient  of  labour,  with  a  little  pleas'd  ; 
Health  ever  blooming;  unambitious  Toil: 
Calm  Contemplation,  and  poetic  Ease. 

(KOUnttg  TLttz.  —  Thomson. 
(")H  knew  he  but  his  happiness,  of  men 

The  happiest  he  !  who  far  from  public  rage, 
Deep  in  the  Vale,  with  a  choice  few  retired, 
.     Drinks  the  pure  pleasures  of  the  Rural  Life. 

<£nUUtrj)  UtfC.  —  Thomson. 
T3ERHAPS  thy  loved  Lucinda  shares  thy  Walk, 
With  soul  to  thine  attuned.     Then  Nature  all 
Wears  to  the  lover's  eye  a  look  of  love  ; 
And  all  the  tumult  of  a  guilty  world, 
Toss'd  by  ungenerous  passions,  sinks  away. 

(Courage.  —  Shakspeare. 
T  DO  not  think  a  Braver  Gentleman, 

More  active  valiant,  or  more  valiant-young, 
More  daring,  or  more  bold,  is  now  alive, 
To  grace  this  latter  age  with  noble  deeds. 

(ftMirage.  —  Byron. 

A  real  Spirit 
Should  neither  court  neglect,  nor  dread  to  bear  it. 


OR,     THINGS    NEW  AND     OLD.  8? 

©OUtage.  —  Ben  Jonson. 

A  VALIANT  Man 

Ought  not  to  undergo  or  tempt  a  danger, 
But  worthily,  and  by  selected  ways, 
He  undertakes  by  reason,  not  by  chance. 
His  Valour  is  the  salt  t'  his  other  virtues, 
They're  all  unseason'd  without  it. 

©Outage.  — Joanna  Baillie. 
'THE  Brave  Man  is  not  he  who  feels  no  fear, 

For  that  were  stupid  and  irrational ; 
But  he,  whose  noble  Soul  its  Fear  subdues, 
And  bravely  dares  the  Danger  nature  shrinks  from. 
As  for  your  youth,  whom  blood  and  blows  delight, 
Away  with  them  !  there  is  not  in  their  crew 
One  valiant  Spirit. 

©OUCage.  —  Shahspeare. 

Come  all  to  ruin ; 
Let  thy  mother  rather  feel  thy  Pride,  than  fear 
Thy  dangerous  Stoutness;  fori  mock  at  death, 
With  a  big  Heart  as  thou.     Do  as  thou  list. 
Thy  Valiantness  was  mine,  thou  suck'dst  it  from  me; 
But  owe  thy  Pride  thyself. 

©outage.  —  Cotton. 

PHYSICAL  Courage,  which  despises  all  dangor,  will  make  a  man 
brave  in  one  way;  and  Moral  Courage,  which  despises  all 
opinion,  will  make  a  man  brave  in  another.  The  former  would 
seem  most  necessary  for  the  camp,  the  latter  for  council ;  but  to 
constitute  a  great  man,  both  are  necessary. 

©OUtage.  —  Shaftesbury. 
'TRUE  Courage  is  cool  and  calm.  The  bravest  of  men  have  the 
least  of  a  brutal  bullying  insolence;  and  in  the  very  time  of 
danger  are  found  the  most  serene  and  free.  Rage,  we  know,  can 
make  a  coward  forget  himself  and  fight.  But  what  is  done  in  fury 
or  anger  can  never  be  placed  to  the  account  of  Courage. 

©OUtage.  —  JDryden. 
AN  intrepid  Courage  is  at  best  but  a  holiday-kind  of  virtue,  to 
be  seldom  exercised,  and  never  but  in  cases  of  necessity  :  af- 
fability, mildness,  tenderness,  and  a  word  which  I  would  fain  bring 
back  to  its  original  signification  of  virtue,  I  mean  good-nature,  are 
of  daily  use;  they  are  the  bread  of  mankind,  and  staff  of  life. 

©OUtage*—  GreuilU. 

ATOST  men  have  more  Courage  than  even  they  themselves  think 
they  have. 


88  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH. 

(£0Utafie.  —  Shakspeare. 

He  bore  him  in  the  thickest  troop, 
As  doth  a  Lion  in  a  herd  of  Neat : 
Or  as  a  Bear,  encompass'd  round  with  Dogs  ; 
Who  having  pinch'd  a  few  and  made  them  cry, 
The  rest  stand  all  aloof,  and  bark  at  him. 

(^Outage.  —  Shakspeare. 

He  stopp'd  the  fliers ; 
And,  by  his  rare  example,  made  the  coward 
Turn  Terror  into  Sport ;  as  waves  before 
A  vessel  under  sail,  so  men  obey'd, 
And  fell  below  his  stem. 

CfjC  (EtiUtU  —  LaBruyere. 
'THE  Court  does  not  render  a  man  contented,  but  it  prevents  his 
being  so  elsewhere. 

Clje  (£$\lXt— Burke. 

TT  is  of  great  importance  (provided  the  thing  is  not  over  done)  to 
contrive  such  an  establishment  as  must,  almost  whether  a  Prince 
will  or  not,  bring  into  daily  and  hourly  oflices  about  his  person,  a 
great  number  of  his  first  Nobility;  and  it  is  rather  an  useful  pre- 
judice that  gives  them  pride  in  such  a  servitude.  Though  they  are 
not  much  the  better  for  a  Court,  a  Court  will  be  much  the  better 
for  them. 

<#0Urt  3JcalOUS;!)-  —  Shakspeare. 

No  simple  man  that  sees 
This  jarring  Discord  of  Nobility, 
This  should'ring  of  each  other  in  the  Court, 
This  factious  bandying  of  their  Favourites, 
But  that  it  doth  presage  some  ill  event. 
'Tis  much,  when  sceptres  are  in  children's  hands; 
But  more,  when  envy  breeds  unkind  division ; 
There  comes  the  ruin,  there  begins  confusion. 

<£0Utteg£.  —  Shakspeare. 

°>   . 

Dissembling  Courtesy !  how  fine  this  tyrant 

Can  tickle  where  she  wounds ! 

Cf)e  OTourtter Dryden. 

See  how  he  sets  his  Countenance  for  Deceit, 
And  promises  a  Lie  before  he  speaks. 

(ftmtCtSijtp.  —  Shakspeare. 
Win  her  with  Gifts,  if  she  respect  not  Words; 
Dumb  Jewels  often,  in  their  silent  kind, 
More  quick  than  Words,  do  move  a  Woman's  Mind. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  89 

<£mirt!5f)tp.  —  Shakspeare. 

'THOU  Hast  by  moon-light  at  her  window  sung, 
With  feigning  voice,  verses  of  feigning  Love ; 
And  stol'n  the  impression  of  her  fantasy 
With  bracelets  of  thy  hair,  rings,  gauds,  conceits, 
Knacks,  trifles,  nosegays,  sweet-meats  j  messengers 
Of  strong  prevail ment  in  unharden'd  youth. 

(£0Utt!5f)  tp.  —  Shakspeare. 
gAY,  that  she  rail;  Why,  then  I'll  tell  her  plain, 

She  sings  as  sweetly  as  a  nightingale  : 
Say,  that  she  frown  :  I'll  say,  she  looks  as  clear 
As  morning  roses  newly  wash'd  with  dew  : 
Say,  she  be  mute,  and  will  not  speak  a  word ; 
Then  I'll  commend  her  volubility, 
And  say — she  uttereth  piercing  eloquence. 
If  she  do  frown  'tis  not  in  hate  of  you, 
But  rather  to  beget  more  love  in  you  : 
If  she  do  chide,  'tis  not  to  have  you  gone ; 
For  why,  the  fools  are  mad  if  left  alone. 
Take  no  repulse,  whatever  she  doth  say; 
For,  (jet  you  [/one,  she  doth  not  mean,  away. 

(Courtsijip.—  Blair. 

r\H,  then  the  longest  summer's  day 

Seem'd  too,  too  much  in  haste  :  still  the  full  Heart 
Had  not  imparted  half:  'twas  Happiness 
Too  exquisite  to  last.     Of  joys  departed, 
Not  to  return,  how  painful  the  remembrance  ! 

(Tourtsijtp.  —  Hiii. 

With  Women  worth  the  being  won, 
The  softest  Lover  ever  best  succeeds. 

&0tttt8jifl.  —  Thomson. 

f^OME  then,  ye  virgins  and  ye  youths,  whose  Hearts 

Have  felt  the  raptures  of  refining  Love ; 
And  thou,  Amanda,  come,  pride  of  my  soug  ! 
Forni'd  by  the  Graces,  Loveliness  itself  1 
Come  with  those  downcast  eyes,  sedate  and  sweet, 
Those  looks  demure,  that  deeply  pierce  the  soul, 
Where  with  the  light  of  thoughtful  reason  mix'd, 
Shines  lively  fancy  and  the  feeling  heart : 
Oh  come  !  and  while  the  rosy-footed  May 
Steals  blushing  on,  together  let  us  tread 
The  morning  dews  and  gather  in  their  prime 
Fresh-blooming  flowers,  to  grace  thy  braided  hair, 
And  thy  lov'd  bosom  that  improves  their  sweets. 


90  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

<£0UrtSf)tp.  —  Sliakspeare. 
ft  AY,  that  upon  the  altar  of  her  Beauty 

You  sacrifice  your  Tears,  your  Sighs,  your  Heart : 
Write,  till  your  ink  be  dry  j  and  with  your  tears 
Moist  it  again;  and  frame  some  feeling  line, 
That  may  discover  such  integrity. 

(CoUttSfjip.  —  Shakspeare. 

Women  are  angels  wooing: 
Things  won  are  done,  joy's  soul  lies  in  the  doing: 
That  she  belov'd  knows  nought,  that  knows  not  this, — 
Men  prize  the  thing  ungain'd  more  than  it  is. 

(Courts!)  tp.  —  Shakspeare. 
TIT'HY  should  you  think  that  I  should  woo  in  scorn? 

Scorn  and  derision  never  come  in  tears? 
Look,  when  I  vow,  I  weep;  and  vows  so  born, 
In  their  nativity  all  truth  appears. 

<£abetOUStte00*  —  South. 

'THE  Covetous  Person  lives  as  if  the  world  were  made  altogether 
for  him,  and  not  he  for  the  world;  to  take  in  every  thing,  and 
part  with  nothing. 

(Cobctousncss.  —  baton. 

A  FTER  Hypocrites,  the  greatest  dupes  the  Devil  has  are  those 
who  exhaust  an  anxious  existence  in  the  Disappointments  and 
Vexations  of  Business,  and  live  miserably  and  meanly  only  to  die 
magnificently  and  rich.  For,  like  the  Hypocrites,  the  only  disin- 
terested action  these  men  can  accuse  themselves  of  is,  that  of  serv- 
ing the  Devil,  without  receiving  his  wages:  he  that  stands  every 
day  of  his  life  behind  a  counter,  until  he  drops  from  it  into  the 
grave,  may  negotiate  many  very  profitable  bargains;  but  he  has 
made  a  single  bad  one,  so  bad  indeed,  that  it  counterbalances  all 
the  rest ;  for  the  empty  foolery  of  dying  rich,  he  has  paid  down  his 
health,  his  happiness,  and  his  integrity. 

(CobetOUSneSS.  —  Burton. 
f^OVETOUS  men  are  fools,  miserable  wretches,  buzzards,  mad- 
men, who  live  by  themselves,  in  perpetual  slavery,  fear,  suspi- 
cion, sorrow,  discontent,  with  more  of  gall  than  honey  in  their 
enjoyments;  who  are  rather  possessed  by  their  Money  than  Pos- 
sessors of  it;  mancipati  pecunits,  bound  'prentices  to  their  property; 
and,  servi  divitiarum,  mean  slaves  and  drudges  to  their  Substance. 

(Cobetousncss.— F.  Osbom. 

QOYETOUSNESS,  like  a  candle  ill  made,  smothers  the  splendour 
of  a  happy  fortune  in  its  own  grease. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  91 

(SobetOUSnCSS*  —  Shakspeare. 
Master,  I  marvel  how  the  fishes  live  in  the  sea. 

1  st  Fisherman  : 
Why  as  men  do  a-land:  the  great  ones  eat  up  the  little  ones.  I 
can  compare  our  rich  Misers  to  nothing  so  fitly  as  to  a  whale;  'a 
plays  and  tumbles,  driving  the  poor  fry  before  him  and  at  last 
devours  them  all  at  a  mouthful.  Such  whales  have  I  heard  on  the 
land,  who  never  leave  gaping,  till  they've  swallowed  the  whole 
parish,  church,  steeple,  bells,  and  al^. 

(ftobetOUStteSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
When  workmen  strive  to  do  better  than  well, 
They  do  confound  their  skill  in  Covetousness. 

(ftutoaru'tCe.  —  Shakspeare. 
You  are  the  hare  of  whom  the  proverb  goes, 
Whose  valour  plucks  dead  lions  by  the  beard. 

W§t  CtaCOtttu.  —  Shakspeare. 
lDUT,  I  remember,  when  the  fight  was  done, 

When  I  was  dry  with  rage,  and  extreme  toil, 
Breathless,  and  faint,  leaning  upon  my  sword, 
Came  there  a  certain  Lord,  neat,  trimly  dress'd : 
Fresh  as  a  Bridegroom,  and  his  chin,  new  reap'd, 
Show'd  like  a  stubble  land  at  harvest  home. 
He  was  perfumed  like  a  Milliner; 
And  'twixt  his  finger  and  his  thumb,  he  held 
A  pouncet  box,  which  ever  and  anon 
He  gave  his  nose :  and  still  he  smiled  and  talk'd ; 
And  as  the  soldiers  bore  dead  bodies  by, 
He  call'd  them — untaught  knaves,  unmannerly, 
To  bring  a  slovenly  unhandsome  corpse 
Betwixt  the  wind  and  his  Nobility. 

(£reeK  —  Coiton. 

TTE  that  will  believe  only  what  he  can  fully  comprehend,  must 
have  a  very  long  head,  or  a  very  short  Creed. 

<£rceu\  —  Colton. 
1 N  Politics,  as  in  Religion,  it  so  happens  that  we  have  less  charity 
for  those  who  believe  the  half  of  our  Creed,  than  for  those  that 
deny  the  whole  of  it,  since  if  Servetus  had  been  a  Mohammedan, 
he  would  not  have  been  burnt  by  Calvin. 

(Ert&Ulttg,  —  Colton. 
THE  Testimony  of  those  who  doubt  the  least,  is,  not  unusually, 
that  very  Testimony  that  ought  most  to  be  doubted. 


92  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

(£retfUlttj)-  —  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 
The  only  disadvantage  of  an  honest  heart  is  Credulity. 

(tftetmlttj).  —  Coiton. 

TT  is  a  curious  paradox,  that  precisely  in  proportion  to  our  own 
intellectual  weakness,  will  be  our  Credulity  as  to  those  mys- 
terious powers  assumed  by  others;  and  in  those  regions  of  dark- 
ness and  ignorance  where  man  cannot  effect  even  those  things  that 
are  within  the  power  of  man,  there  we  shall  ever  find  that  a  blind 
belief  in  feats  that  are  far  beyond  those  powers,  has  taken  the 
deepest  root  in  the  minds  of  the  deceived,  and  produced  the  richest 
harvest  to  the  knavery  of  the  deceiver.  An  impostor  that  would 
starve  in  Edinburgh,  might  luxuriate  in  his  Gynseceum  at  Con- 
stantinople. But  the  more  we  know  as  to  those  things  that  can 
be  done,  the  more  skeptical  do  we  become  as  to  all  things  that 
cannot. 

<£ufrUlttg*  —  From  the  French. 
rpHE  common  people  are  to  be  caught  by  the  ears  as  one  catches 
a  pot  by  the  handle. 

(f£rittt0. — La  Rochefoucauld. 
~pOR  the  credit  of  Virtue  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  greatest 
evils  which  befall  mankind  are  caused  by  their  Crimes. 

(KrittCtSTTL —  Washington  Irving. 
HTHERE  is  a  certain  meddlesome  spirit,  which,  in  the  garb  of 
learned  research,  goes  prying  about  the  traces  of  history,  casting 
down  its  monuments,  and  marring  and  mutilating  its  fairest  trophies. 
Care  should  be  taken  to  vindicate  great  names  from  such  pernicious 
erudition. 

<&rittC&—  Aiken. 

TTE  whose  first  emotion,  on  the  view  of  an  excellent  production,  is 
to  undervalue  it,  will  never  have  one  of  his  own  to  show. 

(KntiCS*  —  Washington  Irving. 
(CRITICS  are  a  kind  of  Freebooters  in  the  republic  of  Letters — 
who,  like  deer,  goats,  and  divers  other  graminivorous  animals, 
gain  subsistence  by  gorging  upon  buds  and  leaves  of  the  young 
shrubs  of  the  forest,  thereby  robbing  them  of  their  verdure,  and 
retarding  their  progress  to  maturity. 

(£rittCJ3.  —  Longfellow. 
(CRITICS  are  sentinels  in  the  grand  army  of  letters,  stationed  at 
the  corners  of  newspapers  and  reviews,  to  challenge  every  new 
author. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  93 

Oftotott.— HaUeck* 

"pMPIRES  to-day  are  upside  down, 

The  castle  kneels  before  the  town, 
The  monarch  fears  a  pri liter's  frown, 

A  brickbat's  range ; 
Give  me,  in  preference  to  a  crown, 
Five  shillings  change. 

<&\mmn$.— Brut/ere. 

QUNNING  is  none  of  the  best  nor  worst  qualities  :  it  floats  be- 
tween Virtue  and  Vice  :  there  is  scarce  any  exigence  where  it 
may  not,  and  perhaps  ought  not  to  be  supplied  by  Prudence. 

(Eunntnfl.  —Lord  GreviUe. 
"THE  common  Contrivances  of  Cunning  put  me  in  mind  of  the 
preservative  instinct  I  have  sometimes  observed  in  Beasts, 
which  lay  a  plot  that  is  extremely  artful  and  well  concealed  in 
many  parts,  but  at  the  same  time  left  so  open  in  some  one  that  it 
is  perfectly  easy  for  superior  intelligence  to  see  and  understand 
the  whole  complication  of  the  contrivance. 

Running.  —  Piato. 

JTNOWLEDGE  without  Justice   ought   to    be   called   Cunning 
rather  than  Wisdom. 

(Sunning.  —La  Bruyere. 
QUNNTNG  leads  to  Knavery ;  it  is  but  a  step  from  one  to  the 
other,  and  that  very  slippery;  Lying  only  makes  the  differ- 
ence :  add  that  to  Cunning,  and  it  is  Knavery. 

(Sunning.—  Coiton. 

TAKING  things  not  as  they  ought  to  be,  but  as  they  are,  I  fear 
it  must  be  allowed  that  Machiavelli  will  always  have  more 
disciples  than  Jesus.  Out  of  the  millions  who  have  studied  and 
even  admired  the  precepts  of  the  Nazarite,  how  few  are  there  that 
have  reduced  them  to  practice.  But  there  are  numbers  numberless 
who  throughout  the  whole  of  their  lives  have  been  practising  the 
principles  of  the  Italian,  without  having  even  heard  of  his  name; 
who  cordially  believe  with  him  that  the  tongue  was  given  us  to 
discover  the  thoughts  of  others,  and  to  conceal  our  own. 

Cunning.—  Goldsmith. 
THE  bounds  of  a  man's  knowledge  are  easily  concealed,  if  he  has 
but  prudence. 

(Sunning.  —  La  Rochefoucauld, 
'JHE  most  sure  method  of  subjecting  yourself  to  be  deceived,  is 
to  consider  yourself  more  Cunning  than  others. 


94  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 

dunning.  —  Lord  Greville. 
Y\HE  should  do  by  our  Cunning  as  we  do  by  our  Courage, — always 
have  it  ready  to  defend  ourselves,  never  to  offend  others. 

dunning.  —  Lord  Bacon. 
TVTIS  take  Cunning  for  a  sinister  or  crooked  wisdom,  and  certainly 
there  is  a  great  difference  between  a  Cunning  Man  and  a  wise 
man,  not  only  in  point  of  honesty  but  in  point  of  ability. 

dunning.  —  Coiton. 

TTURRY  and  Cunning  are  the  two  apprentices  of  Dispatch  and 
of  Skill ;  but  neither  of  them  ever  learn  their  masters'  trade. 

dunning.  —  Addison. 
r^UNNINGr  has  only  private  selfish  aims,  and  sticks  at  nothing 
which  may  make  them  succeed.  Discretion  has  large  and  ex- 
tended views,  and,  like  a  well-formed  eye,  commands  a  whole 
horizon  ;  Cunning  is  a  kind  of  short-sightedness,  that  discovers  the 
minutest  objects  which  are  near  at  hand,  but  is  not  able  to  discern 
things  at  a  distance.  Discretion,  the  more  it  is  discovered,  gives 
a  greater  authority  to  the  person  who  possesses  it.  Discretion  is 
the  perfection  of  Reason,  and  a  guide  to  us  in  all  the  duties  of  life : 
Cunning  is  a  kind  of  Instinct,  that  only  looks  out  after  our  imme- 
diate interest  and  welfare.  Discretion  is  only  found  in  men  of 
strong  sense  and  good  understandings :  Cunning  is  often  to  be  met 
with  in  brutes  themselves,  and  in  persons  who  are  but  the  fewest 
removes  from  them.  In  short,  Cunning  is  only  the  mimic  of  Dis- 
cretion, and  may  pass  upon  weak  men,  in  the  same  manner  as 
Vivacity  is  often  mistaken  for  Wit,  and  Gravity  for  Wisdom. 

dunning.  —  steme. 

rrHE  paths  of  Virtue  are  plain  and  straight,  so  that  the  blind, 
persons  of  the  meanest  capacity,  shall  not  err.  Dishonesty  re- 
quires skill  to  conduct  it,  and  as  great  art  to  conceal — what  'tis 
every  one's  interest  to  detect.  And  I  think  I  need  not  remind  you 
how  often  it  happens  in  attempts  of  this  kind — where  worldly  men, 
in  haste  to  be  rich,  have  overrun  the  only  means  to  it, — and  for 
want  of  laying  their  contrivances  with  proper  Cunning,  or  manag- 
ing them  with  proper  Secrecy  and  Advantage,  have  lost  for  ever 
what  they  might  have  certainly  secured  with  Honesty  and  Plain- 
dealing. 

dUt0C£.  —  Shdkspeare. 
T^EED  not  thy  sovereign's  foe,  my  gentle  earth, 

Nor  with  thy  sweets  comfort  his  rav'nous  sense : 
But  let  thy  spiders,  that  suck  up  thy  venom, 
And  heavy  gaited  toads,  lie  in  their  way. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  95 

(fttustoim— max. 

Custom  forms  us  all; 
Our  thoughts,  our  morals,  our  most  fiVd  belief, 
Are  consequences  of  our  place  of  birth. 

(EujStom.  —  Rabelais. 
C^AN  there  be  any  greater  dotage  in  the  world,  than  for  one  tc 
guide  and  direct  his  Courses  by  the  sound  of  a  bell,  and  not  by 
his  own  judgment  and  discretion. 

©UStOm.  —  Cowper. 
To  follow  foolish  Precedents,  and  wink 
"With  both  our  eyes,  is  easier  than  to  think. 

(ftUStom.  —  Colton. 
V^THEN  all  moves  equally  (says  Pascal)  nothing  seems  to  move, 
as  in  a  vessel  under  sail;  and  when  all  run  by  common  con- 
sent into  vice,  none  appear  to  do  so.  He  that  stops  first,  views  as 
from  a  fixed  point  the  horrible  extravagance  that  transports  the 
rest. 

<£u0tCm\  —  Shakspeare. 
New  Customs, 
Though  they  be  never  so  ridiculous, 
Nay  let  them  be  unmanly,  yet  are  follow'd. 

Btatf).  —  Steele. 
A  LL  that  nature  has  prescribed  must  be  good ;  and  as  Death  is 
natural  to  us,  it  is  absurdity  to  fear  it.     Fear  loses  its  purpose 
when  we  are  sure  it  cannot  preserve  us,  and  we  should  draw  reso- 
lution to  meet  it,  from  the  impossibility  to  escape  it. 

SeatJK  — La  Rochefoucauld. 
Neither  the  sun  nor  Death  can  be  looked  at  steadily. 

2Beatf).- -Coium. 

'THE  hand  that  unnerved  Belshazzar  derived  its  most  horrifying 
influence  from  the  want  of  a  hod//;   and  Death  itself  is  not 
formidable  in  what  we  do  know  of  it,  but  in  what  we  do  not. 

BeatJ- —  Martial. 
VOU   should   not  fear,  nor  yet  should  you  wish  for  your  Last 
X    Day. 

Beat?),  —  Pascal. 
"T)EATH  itself  is  less  painful  when  it  comes  upon  us  unawares, 
than  the  bare  contemplation  of  it,  even  when  danger  is  far 
uistant. 

i2 


96  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Bcafy.  —  S/iakspeare. 
The  tongues  of  dying  Men 
Enforce  attention  like  deep  harmony; 
Where  words  are  scarce,  they  are  seldom  spent  in  vain, 
For  they  breathe  truth,  that  breathe  their  words  in  pain. 
He,  that  no  more  must  say,  is  listened  more 
Than  they,  whom  youth  and  ease  have  taught  to  glose; 
More  are  men's  ends  mark'd,  than  their  lives  before : 
The  setting  sun,  and  music  at  the  close, 
As  the  last  taste  of  sweets,  is  sweetest  last; 
Writ  in  remembrance,  more  than  things  long  past. 

Beat!)*  —  Shakspeare. 

Death  is  a  fearful  thing, 
And  shamed  life  a  hateful. 
To  die,  and  go  we  know  not  where ; 
To  lie  in  cold  obstruction,  and  to  rot; 
This  sensible  warm  motion  to  become 
A  kneaded  Clod;  and  the  delighted  Spirit 
To  bathe  in  fiery  floods,  or  to  reside 
In  thrilling  regions  of  thick-ribb'd  ice; 
To  be  impiison'd  in  the  viewless  winds, 
And  blown  with  restless  violence  round  about 
The  pendant  world,  or  to  be  worse  than  worst 
Of  those,  that  lawless  and  uncertain  thoughts 
Imagine  howling! — 'tis  too  horrible! 
The  weariest  and  most  loathed  worldly  life, 
That  age,  ache,  penury,  and  imprisonment, 
Can  lay  on  Nature,  is  a  paradise 
To  what  we  fear  of  Death. 

10  eat  {)♦  —  Shakspeare. 
Nothing  can  we  call  our  own,  but  Death ; 
And  that  small  model  of  the  barren  earth, 
Which  serves  as  paste  and  cover  to  our  bones. 

l^Catf)*  —  Metastasio. 
I T  is  by  no  means  a  fact,  that  Death  is  the  worst  of  all  evils ; 
when  it  comes,  it  is  an  alleviation  to  mortals  who  are  worn  out 
with  sufferings. 

Heat  f).  —  Shakspeare, 
nnO  what  base  uses  we  may  return !  Why  may  not  imagination 
trace  the  noble  dust  of  Alexander,  till  it  find  it  stopping  a  bung- 
hole  ?  As  thus,  Alexander  died,  Alexander  was  buried,  Alexander 
rcturneth  to  dust;  the  dust  is  earth  :  of  earth  we  make  loam  :  And 
why  of  that  loam,  whereto  he  was  converted,  might  they  not  stop  a 
beer  barrel  1 


OR,     THIXGS    XEYf  AND     OLD.  97 

~F)EATH  is  the  Liberator  of  him  whom  freedom  cannot  release, 
the  Physician  of  him  whom  medicine  cannot  cure,  and  the  Com- 
forter of  him  whom  time  cannot  console. 

I3e<Jtf).  —  Shakspeare. 
For  within  the  hollow  crown, 
That  rounds  the  mortal  temples  of  a  king, 
Keeps  Death  his  court ;  and  there  the  Antick  sits 
Scoffing  his  state,  and  grinning  at  his  pomp; 
Allowing  him  a  breath,  a  little  scene 
To  monarchize,  be  feared,  and  kill  with  looks ; 
Infusing  him  with  self  and  vain  conceit, 
As  if  this  flesh,  which  walls  about  our  life, 
Were  brass  impregnable  :  and,  humour'd  thus, 
Comes  at  the  last,  and  with  a  little  pin 
Bores  through  his  castle-walls,  and  farewell  King ! 

£3  catf).  —  Shakspeare. 
OH  my  love,  my  wife ! 

Death,  that  hath  suckt  the  honey  of  thy  breath, 
Hath  had  no  power  yet  upon  thy  beauty : 
Thou  art  not  conquer'd ;   beauty's  eusign  yet 
Is  crimson  in  thy  lips,  and  in  thy  cheeks, 
And  Death's  pale  flag  is  not  advanced  there. 
Why  art  thou  yet  so  fair  ?  shall  I  believe, 
That  unsubstantial  Death  is  amorous, 
And  that  the  lean  abhorr'd  Monster  keeps 
Thee  here  in  dark,  to  be  his  paramour  ? 

Qcatf).  —  Shakspeare. 
Death  lies  on  her,  like  an  uutimely  frost 
Upon  the  sweetest  flow'r  of  all  the  field. 

Ocatf).  —  Shakspeare. 
OH,  now  doth  Death  line  his  dead  chaps  with  steel ; 

The  swords  of  soldiers  are  his  teeth,  his  fangs ; 
And  now  he  feasts,  mouthing  the  flesh  of  men, 
In  undetermined  differences  of  kings. 

Scatj).  —  Shakspeare. 
~J^"OW  boast  thee,  Death,  in  thy  possession  lies 

A  lass  unparallel'd. Downy  windows  close ; 

And  golden  Phoebus  never  be  beheld 
Of  eyes  again  so  royal ! 

Deatf).  —  Shakspeare. 
Mount,  mount,  my  Soul !  thy  seat  is  up  on  high  ; 
Whilst  my  gross  Flesh  sinks  downward  here  to  die. 

7 


98  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

mtafy.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
Full  of  repentance, 
Continual  meditations,  tears  and  sorrows, 
He  gave  his  honours  to  the  world  again, 
His  blessed  part  to  Heaven,  and  slept  in  peace. 

iBeatf),  —  Shdkspeare. 
TTAVE  I  not  hideous  Death  within  rny  view  ? 

'  Retaining  but  a  quantity  of  life, 
Which  bleeds  away,  ev'n  as  a  form  of  wax 
Resolveth  from  its  figure  'gainst  the  fire  ? 
What  in  the  world  should  make  me  now  deceive, 
Since  I  must  lose  the  use  of  all  deceit  ? 
Why  should  I  then  be  false,  since  it  is  true, 
That  I  must  die  here,  and  live  hence  by  truth  ? 

Seatf).  —  Shdkspeare. 
Nothing  in  his  life 
Became  him  like  the  leaving  it.     He  died, 
As  one  that  had  been  studied  in  his  Death, 
To  throw  away  the  dearest  thing  he  ow'd, 
As  'twere  a  careless  trifle. 

IBeatf).  —  Slidkspeare. 
TT  is  too  late  j  the  life  of  all  his  blood 

Is  touch' d  corruptibly;  and  his  pure  brain, 
(Which  some  suppose,  the  soul's  frail  dwelling-house,) 
Doth,  by  the  idle  comments  that  it  makes, 
Foretell  the  ending  of  Mortality. 

Heatf).  —  Shdkspeare. 

Oh,  amiable  lovely  Death  ! 
Thou  odoriferous  stench  !  sound  rottenness  ! 
Arise  forth  from  the  couch  of  lasting  night, 
Thou  hate  and  terror  to  prosperity, 
And  I  will  kiss  thy  detestable  bones  j 
And  ring  these  fingers  with  thy  household  worms ; 
And  stop  this  gap  of  breath  with  fulsome  dust, 
And  be  a  carrion  Monster  like  thyself : 
Come,  grin  on  me ;  and  I  will  think  thou  smil'st, 
And  buss  thee  as  thy  wife  !     Mercy's  love, 
Oh  come  to  me  ! 

J3eati).  —  Shdkspeare. 
If  thou  and  nature  can  so  gently  part, 
The  stroke  of  Death  is  as  a  lover's  pinch, 
Which  hurts,  and  is  desir'd. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AXD    OLD.  9S 

Scat!).  —  Shakspeare. 

Death, 

Being  an  ugly  Monster, 

'Tis  strange,  he  hides  him  in  fresh  cups,  soft  beds, 
Sweet  words  :  or  hath  more  ministers  than  we 
That  draw  his  knives  i'  the  war. 

Scat!).  —  Shakspeare. 

To  die, — to  sleep, — 
No  more ; — and,  by  a  sleep,  to  say  we  end 
The  heart-ache,  and  the  thousand  natural  shocks 
That  flesh  is  heir  to, — 'tis  a  consummation 
Devoutly  to  be  wish'd. 

Dcatij.  —  Shakspeare. 
T)0  not,  for  ever,  with  thy  veiled  lids 

Seek  for  thy  noble  father  in  the  dust : 
Thou  know'st,  'tis  common;  all,  that  live,  must  die, 
Passing  through  Nature  to  Eternity. 

Dcatf).  —  Shakspeare. 
"pOR  who  would  bear  the  whips  and  scorns  of  time, 

The  oppressor's  wrong,  the  proud  man's  contumely, 
The  pangs  of  despised  love,  the  law's  delay, 
The  insoleuce  of  office,  and  the  spurns 
That  patient  merit  of  the  unworthy  takes, 
When  he  himself  might  his  quietus  make 
With  a  bare  bodkin  ?  who  would  fardels  bear, 
To  grunt  and  sweat  under  a  weary  life  ; 
But  that  the  dread  of  something  after  Death, — 
The  undiscover'd  country,  from  whose  bourn 
No  traveller  returns,  puzzles  the  will; 
And  makes  us  rather  bear  those  ills  we  have, 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of? 

Scatf)*  —  Shakspeare. 
I  AM  a  tainted  wether  of  the  flock, 
Meetest  for  Death  :  the  weakest  kind  of  fruit 
Drops  earliest  to  the  ground,  and  so  let  me. 

Deatf).  —  Shakspeare. 
0  MIGHTY  Caesar!  dost  thou  lie  so  low? 

Are  all  thy  conquests,  glories,  triumphs,  spoils, 
Shrunk  to  this  little  measure  ? 
But  yesterday  the  word  of  Cresar  might 
Have  stood  against  the  world  :  now  lies  he  there, 
And  none  so  poor  to  do  him  reverence. 


100  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

IBt&tl). —  Shakspeare. 

Lay  her  i'  the  earth ; — 
And  from  her  fair  and  unpolluted  flesh 
May  violets  spring !     I  tell  thee,  churlish  priest, 
A  ministering  angel  shall  my  sister  be, 
When  thou  liest  howling. 

Sfcatf)*  —  Young. 

X1THEN  down  thy  vale  unlock'd  by  midnight  thought 

That  loves  to  wander  in  thy  sunless  realms, 
0  Death  !  I  stretch  my  view ;  what  visions  rise ! 
What  triumphs  !  toils  imperial !  arts  divine  ! 
In  wither' d  laurels  glide  before  my  sight ! 
What  lengths  of  far-famed  ages,  billow'd  high 
With  human  agitation,  roll  along 
In  unsubstantial  images  of  air  ! 
The  melancholy  ghosts  of  dead  renown, 
Whispering  faint  echoes  of  the  world's  applause 
With  penitential  aspect,  as  they  pass, 
All  point  at  earth,  and  hiss  al  human  pride, 
The  wisdom  of  the  wise,  and  prancings  of  the  great. 

2&Z&t  f).  —  Shakspeare. 
'THE  sense  of  Death  is  most  in  apprehension ; 

And  the  poor  beetle,  that  we  tread  upon, 
In  corporal  sufferance  finds  a  pang  as  great 
As  when  a  giant  dies. 

Heat?).  —  Shakspeare. 
Here  lurks  no  treason,  here  no  envy  swells, 
Here  grow  no  damned  grudges ;  here  are  no  storms, 
No  noise,  but  Silence  and  Eternal  Sleep. 

IBMtl).  —  Shakspeare. 
HOWARDS  die  many  times  before  their  Deaths; 

The  valiant  never  taste  of  Death  but  once. 
Of  all  the  wonders  that  I  yet  have  heard, 
It  seems  to  me  most  strange  that  men  should  fear; 
Seeing  that  Death,  a  necessary  end, 
Will  come,  when  it  will  come. 

•BtZX%—BMr. 

0  great  Man-eater ! 
Whose  every  day  is  Carnival,  not  sated  yet ! 
Unheard  of  Epicure  !   without  a  fellow ! 
The  veriest  gluttons  do  not  always  cram; 
Some  intervals  of  abstinence  are  sought 
To  edge  the  appetite;  thou  scekest  none. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  101 

23eati)*  —  Shakspeare. 
That  life  is  better  Life,  past  fearing  Death, 
Than  that  which  lives  to  fear. 

Deatj)*  —  Southey. 
T)EATH  !  to  the  happy  thou  art  terrible, 

But  how  the  wretched  love  to  think  of  thee ! 
0  thou  true  comforter,  the  friend  of  all 
Who  have  no  friend  beside. 

Beatf).  —  Young. 
"PARLY,  bright,  transient, 
Chaste  as  morning  dew, 
She  sparkled,  was  exhaled, 
And  went  to  Heaven. 

1"  FEEL  Death  rising  higher  still  and  higher 

Within  my  bosom )  every  breath  I  fetch 
Shuts  up  my  life  within  a  shorter  compass  : 
And,  like  the  vanishing  sound  of  bells,  grows  less 
And  less  each  pulse,  till  it  be  lost  in  air. 

29eatj.—  Byron. 

Death,  so  called,  is  a  thing  that  makes  men  weep, 
And  yet  a  third  of  life  is  pass'd  in  sleep. 

SJeattf).—  Blair. 

TTOW  shocking  must  thy  summons  be,  0  Death  ! 

To  him  that  is  at  ease  in  his  possessions; 
Who,  counting  on  long  years  of  pleasure  here, 
Is  quite  unfurnish'd  for  that  world  to  come  ! 
In  that  dread  moment,  how  the  frantic  soul 
Raves  round  the  walls  of  her  clay  tenement, 
Runs  to  each  avenue,  and  shrieks  for  help, 
But  shrieks  in  vain  ! 

Beat!).  —  Young. 
Death  is  the  crown  of  life  : 
Were  Death  denied,  poor  men  would  live  in  vain  ; 
Were  Death  denied,  to  live  would  not  be  life ; 
Were  Death  denied,  even  fools  would  wish  to  die. 

Beatf).  —  Byron. 
£JAN  this  be  Death  ?  there's  bloom  upon  her  cheek  ; 

But  now  I  see  it  is  no  living  hue, 
But  a  strange  hectic — like  the  unnatural  red 
Which  Autumn  plants  upon  the  perish'd  leaf. 
It  is  the  same  !     Oh,  God  !  that  I  should  dread 
To  look  upon  the  same. 


102  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Dtat\).  —  Youn<j. 
"WH Y  start  at  Death  ?  Where  is  he  ?  Death  arrived, 

Is  past;  not  come,  or  gone,  he's  never  here. 
Ere  hope,  sensation  fails ;  black-boding  man 
Receives,  not  suffers,  Death's  tremendous  blow. 
The  knell,  the  shroud,  the  mattock,  and  the  grave; 
The  deep  damp  vault,  the  darkness,  and  the  worm ; 
These  are  the  bugbears  of  a  winter's  eve, 
The  terrors  of  the  living,  not  the  dead. 
Imagination's  fool,  and  error's  wretch, 
Man  maizes  a  Death  which  Nature  never  made ; 
Then  on  the  point  of  his  own  fancy  falls ; 
And  feels  a  thousand  Deaths  in  fearing  one. 

Deatft*— Young. 

"I^ACH  friend  by  Fate  snatch'd  from  us,  is  a  plume 

Pluckt  from  the  wing  of  human  vanity, 
Which  makes  us  stoop  from  our  aerial  heights, 
And,  dampt  with  omen  of  our  own  disease, 
On  drooping  pinions  of  ambition  lower'd, 
Just  skim  earth's  surface,  ere  we  break  it  up, 
O'er  putrid  earth  to  scratch  a  little  dust, 
And  save  the  world  a  nuisance. 

©eatf).  —  Mrs.  Tighe. 
C\  THOU  most  terrible,  most  dreaded  Power, 
In  whatsoever  form  thou  meetest  the  eye  ! 

Whether  thou  biddest  thy  sudden  arrow  fly 
In  the  dread  silence  of  the  midnight  hour; 
Or  whether,  hovering  o'er  the  lingering  wretch, 

Thy  sad  cold  javelin  hangs  suspended  long, 

While  round  the  couch  the  weeping  Kindred  throng. 
With  Hope  and  Fear  alternately  on  stretch ; 
Oh  say,  for  me  what  horrors  are  prepared  ? 

Am  I  now  doom'd  to  meet  thy  fatal  arm  ? 

Or  wilt  thou  first  from  life  steal  every  charm, 
And  bear  away  each  good  my  soul  would  guard  ? 

That  thus,  deprived  of  all  it  loved,  my  heart 

From  life  itself  contentedly  may  part. 

BtZti).  — Campbell 
^OON  may  this  fluttering  spark  of  vital  flame 

Forsake  its  languid  melancholy  frame ! 
Soon  may  these  eyes  their  trembling  lustre  close, 
Welcome  the  dreamless  night  of  long  Repose  ! 
Soon  may  this  wo  worn  spirit  seek  the  bourn 
Where,  lull'd  to  slumber,  Grief  forgets  to  mourn  ! 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD.  103 

jDcatf).—  Byron. 
A  SLEEP  without  dreams,  after  a  rough  day 
Of  toil,  is  what  we  covet  most;  and  yet 
How  clay  shrinks  back  from  more  quiescent  clay. 

IBeatj,—  Byron. 

"T\rHOM  the  gods  love  die  young"  was  said  of  yore, 

And  many  Deaths  do  they  escape  by  this  : 
The  Death  of  Friends,  and  that  which  slays  even  more, 

The  Death  of  Friendship,  Love,  Youth,  all  that  is, 
Except  mere  breath  ;  and  since  the  silent  Shore 
Awaits  at  last  even  those  whom  longest  miss 
The  old  Archer's  shafts,  perhaps  the  early  Grave 
Which  men  weep  over  may  be  meant  to  save. 

Oeatf) Johnson. 

TN  Life's  last  Scene  what  prodigies  surprise, 
Fears  of  the  brave,  and  follies  of  the  wise  ? 
From  Marlb'rough'seyes  the  streams  of  dotage  flow, 
And  Swift  expires  a  driv'ler  and  a  show. 

Beatf)*— Dry  den. 
Oh  !  that  I  less  could  fear  to  lose  this  being  ! 
Which,  like  a  snow-ball  in  my  coward  hand, 
The  more  'tis  grasp'd,  the  faster  melts  away. 

Deatf).—  Webster. 

(~\XE  may  live  as  a  conqueror,  a  king,  or  a  magistrate;  but  he 
must  die  as  a  man.  The  bed  of  death  brings  every  human 
being  to  his  pure  individuality;  to  the  intense  contemplation  of 
that  deepest  and  most  solemn  of  all  relations,  the  relation  between 
the  creature  and  his  Creator.  Here  it  is  that  fame  and  renown 
cannot  assist  us  ;  that  all  external  things  must  fail  to  aid  us;  that 
even  friends,  affection,  and  human  love  and  devotedness,  cannot 
succour  us. 

Dcatij  tntf)C  OtOUttttg,— Paulding. 
nTHERE  is  to  my  mind  and  to  my  early  recollections,  something  ex- 
quisitely touching  in  the  tolling  of  a  church-bell  amid  the  silence 
of  the  country.  It  communicates  for  miles  around  the  message  of 
mortality.  The  ploughman  stops  his  horse  to  listen  to  the  solemn 
tidings;  the  housewife  remits  her  domestic  occupations,  and  sits 
with  the  needle  idle  in  her  fingers,  to  ponder  who  it  is  that  is  going 
to  the  long  home;  and  even  the  little,  thoughtless  children,  play- 
ing and  laughing  their  way  from  school,  are  arrested  for  a  moment 
in  their  evening  gambols  by  these  sounds  of  melancholy  import,  aiid 
cover  their  heads  when  they  go  to  rest. 

K 


104  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

Dcatf)  Of  QVWXlte.— Fisher  Ames. 
TT  is  not  by  destroying  tyrants  that  we  are  to  extinguish  tyranny; 
nature  is  not  thus  to  be  exhausted  of  her  power  to  produce 
them.  The  soil  of  a  republic  sprouts  with  the  rankest  fertility;  it 
has  been  sown  with  dragon's  teeth.  To  lessen  the  hopes  of  usurp- 
ing demagogues,  we  must  enlighten,  animate,  and  combine  the 
spirit  of  freemen  ;  we  must  fortify  and  guard  the  constitutional 
ramparts  about  liberty.  When  its  friends  become  indolent  or  dis- 
heartened, it  is  no  longer  of  any  importance  how  long-lived  are  its 
enemies:  they  will  prove  immortal. 

Mtatf).— Bryant. 
CO  live,  that,  when  thy  summons  comes  to  join 

The  innumerable  caravan,  that  moves 
To  that  mysterious  realm,  where  each  shall  take 
His  chamber  in  the  silent  halls  of  death, 
Thou  go  not,  like  the  quarry-slave  at  night, 
Scourged  to  his  dungeon ;  but  sustain'd  and  sooth'd 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grave, 
Like  one  that  draws  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams. 

Befot Franklin. 

/CREDITORS  have  better  memories  than  Debtors ;  and  Creditors 
are  a  superstitious  sect,  great  observers  of  set  days  and  times. 

Btlt  —  Sir  M.  Hale. 
"DUN  not  into  Debt,  either  for  wares  sold,  or  money  borrowed; 
be  content  to  want  things  that  are  not  of  absolute  necessity, 
rather  than  to  run  up  the  score. 

HBeut,  —  Chesterfield. 
A    MAN  who  owes  a  little  can  clear  it  off  in  a  very  little  time, 
and,  if  he  is  a  prudent  man,  he  will :  whereas  a  man,  who,  by 
long  negligence,  owes  a  great  deal,  despairs  of  ever  being  able  to 
pay,  and  therefore  never  looks  into  his  accounts  at  all. 

MM.— Franklin. 
T'HINK — think  what  you  do  when  you  run  in  debt;  you  give  to 
another  power  over  your  liberty.  If  you  cannot  pay  at  the  time, 
you  will  be  ashamed  to  see  your  creditor ;  you  will  be  in  fear  when 
you  speak  to  him;  you  will  make  poor,  pitiful,  sneaking  excuses, 
and  by  degrees  come  to  lose  your  veracity,  and  sink  into  base, 
downright  lying ;  for  the  second  vice  is  lying,  the  first  is  running  in 
debt,  as  Poor  Richard  says ;  and  again,  to  the  same  purpose,  Lying 
rides  upon  Debt's  back;  whereas  a  freeboru  Englishman  ought  not 
to  be  ashamed  nor  afraid  to  see  or  speak  to  any  man  living.  But 
poverty  often  deprives  a  man  of  all  spirit  and  virtue.  It  is  hard 
for  an  empty  bag  to  stand  upright. 


OB,     THINGS    NEW  AND     OLD.  105 

IBtM Franklin. 

TtrHAT  would  you  think  of  that  prince,  or  of  that  government, 
who  should  issue  an  edict  forbidding  you  to  dress  like  a  gen- 
tleman or  gentlewoman,  on  pain  of  imprisonment  or  servitude  ? 
Would  you  not  say  that  you  were  free,  have  a  right  to  dress  as 
you  please,  and  that  such  an  edict  would  be  a  breach  of  your 
privileges,  and  such  a  government  tyrannical  ?  And  yet  you  arc 
about  to  put  yourself  under  such  tyranny,  when  you  run  in  debt  for 
such  dress  !  Your  creditor  has  authority,  at  his  pleasure,  to  de- 
prive you  of  your  liberty,  by  confining  you  in  jail  till  you  shall  be 
able  to  pay  him.  When  you  have  got  your  bargain,  you  may,  per- 
haps, think  little  of  payment,  but  as  Poor  Richard  says,  Creditors 
have  better  memories  than  debtors;  creditors  are  a  superstitious  sect, 
great  observers  of  set  days  and  times.  The  day  comes  round  before 
you  are  aware,  and  the  demand  is  made  before  you  are  prepared  to 
satisfy  it;  or,  if  you  bear  your  debt  in  mind,  the  term,  which  at 
first  seemed  so  long,  will,  as  it  lessens,  appear  extremely  short. 
Time  will  seem  to  have  added  wings  to  his  heels  as  well  as  his 
shoulders.  Those  have  a  short  Lent  who  owe  money  to  be  paid  at 
Easter. 

BefctS.  —  Fuller. 
T  OSE  not  thy  own  for  want  of  asking  for  it;  'twill  get  thee  no 
thanks. 

DCCBH.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
Look  to  her,  Moor ;  have  a  quick  eye  to  see  : 
She  has  deceived  her  Father,  and  may  thee. 

Defence Skakspeare. 

TN  causes  of  Defence,  'tis  best  to  weigh 

The  enemy  more  mighty  than  he  seems; 
So  the  proportions  of  Defence  are  fill'd ; 
Which  of  a  weak  and  niggardly  projection 
Doth,  like  a  miser,  spoil  his  coat  with  scanting 
A  little  cloth. 

DeftCenCC.  —  Shenstone. 
T)EFERENCE  is  the  most  complicate,  the  most  indirect,  and  the 
most  elegant  of  all  Compliments. 

Deference.  —  Shenstone. 
"PREFERENCE  often  shrinks  and  withers  as  much  upon  the  ap- 
proach of  Intimacy,  as  the  sensitive  plant  does  upon  the  touch 
of  one's  finger. 

Cf)e  Sett}).  —  Milton. 

And  thou,  0  Spirit,  that  dost  prefer, 

Before  all  temples,  the  upright  heart  and  pure, 

Instruct  me,  for  thou  know'st. 


10(3  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

3If)C   Dettp.  —  Prior. 
Repine  not,  nor  reply : 
View  not  what  Heaven  ordains  with  Reason's  eye, 
Too  bright  the  object  is;  the  distance  is  too  high. 
The  man,  who  would  resolve  the  work  of  Fate, 
May  limit  number,  and  make  crooked  straight: 
Stop  thy  inquiry  then,  and  curb  thy  sense, 
Nor  let  dust  argue  with  Omnipotence. 

Cf)e   Btity.— Prior. 
"PROM  Nature's  constant  or  eccentric  laws, 

The  thoughtful  soul  this  general  inference  draws, 
That  an  Effect  must  presuppose  a  Cause : 
And,  while  she  does  her  upward  flight  sustain, 
Touching  each  link  of  the  continued  chain, 
At  length  she  is  obliged  and  forced  to  see 
A  First,  a  Source,  a  Life,  a  Deity ; 
What  has  for  ever  been,  and  must  for  ever  be. 

Cf)e   ©Cttj).  —  Thomson. 
A  ND  yet  was  every  faltering  tongue  of  man, 

Almighty  Father !  silent  in  thy  praise ! 
Thy  works  themselves  would  raise  a  general  voice, 
Even  in  the  depth  of  solitary  woods 
By  human  foot  untrod,  proclaim  thy  power, 
And  to  the  quire  celestial  Thee  resound, 
The  eternal  Cause,  Support,  and  End  of  all ! 

2Tf)e  BettJ).  —  Thomson. 
TTAIL,  Source  of  Being !  Universal  Soul 

Of  Heaven  and  Earth!  Essential  Presence,  hail! 
To  Thee  I  bend  the  knee;  to  Thee  my  thoughts 
Continual  climb;  who,  with  a  Master  hand, 
Hast  the  great  whole  into  perfection  touch'd. 

Cf)e   BettJ?.  —  Thomson. 
"VITITH  what  an  awful  world-revolving  power 

Were  first  the  unwieldy  planets  launch'd  along 
The  illimitable  void !     Thus  to  remain, 
Amid  the  flux  of  many  thousand  years, 
That  oft  has  swept  the  toiling  race  of  men 
And  all  their  labour'd  monuments  away, 
Firm,  unremitting,  matchless  in  their  course; 
To  the  kind-temper'd  change  of  Night  and  Day, 
And  of  the  Seasons  ever  stealing  round, 
Minutely  faithful:  Such  the  all-perfect  Hand! 
That  poised,  impels,  and  rules  the  steady  whole. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND     OLD.  m 


2Tf)e   Settg.  —  Cowper. 
TN  the  vast,  and  the  minute,  we  see 

The  unambiguous  footsteps  of  the  God, 
Who  gives  its  lustre  to  an  insect's  wing, 
And  wheels  his  throne  upon  the  rolling  worlds. 

53claj).  —  Shakspeare. 
f\  THAT  comfort  comes  too  late; 

;Tis  like  a  pardon  after  execution : 
That  gentle  physic,  given  in  time,  had  cured  me; 
But  now  I  am  past  all  comfort  here,  but  prayers. 

HBtiitatS.  —  GreviUe. 

Y\TEAK  men  often,  from  the  very  principle  of  their  weakness, 
derive  a  certain  Susceptibility,   Delicacy,  and  Taste,  which 
render  them,  in  those  particulars,  much  superior  to  men  of  stronger 
and  more  consistent  minds,  who  laugh  at  them. 

BeltCacp,  —  Novalis. 
CIIAME  is  a  feeling  of  profanation.  Friendship,  Love,  and  Piety 
ought  to  be  handled  with  a  sort  of  mysterious  secrecy;  they 
ought  to  be  spoken  of  only  in  the  rare  moments  of  perfect  confi- 
dence— to  be  mutually  understood  in  silence.  Many  things  are 
too  delicate  to  be  thought;  many  more,  to  be  spoken. 

Cf)e   TBtlUQt.  — Byron. 
TTIE  Heavens  and  Earth  are  mingling — God !  0  God  ! 

What  have  we  done  ?  yet  spare ! 
Hark !  even  the  forest  beasts  howl  forth  their  pray'r ! 
The  dragon  crawls  from  out  his  den, 
To  herd  in  terror  innocent  with  men; 
And  the  birds  scream  their  agony  through  air. 

DclUStOn.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
YITHEN  our  vices  quit  us,  we  natter  ourselves  with  the  belief  that 
it  is  we  who  quit  them. 

Delusion. — Ootam. 

Y\rE  strive  as  hard  to  hide  our  hearts  from  ourselves  as  from 
others,  and  always  with  more  success;  for  in  deciding  upon 
our  own  case,  we  are  both  judge,  jury,  and  executioner;  and  where 
Sophistry  cannot  overcome  the  first,  or  Flattery  the  second,  Self- 
love  is  always  ready  to  defeat  the  sentence  by  bribing  the  third;  a 
bribe  that  in  this  case  is  never  refused,  because  she  always  comes 
up  to  the  price. 

DclUSlOtt.  —  &>  Philip  Sidney. 
TT  many  times  falls  out,  that  we  deem  ourselves  much  deceived  in 
others,  because  we  first  deceived  ourselves. 

k2 


108  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Delusion.  —  Shakspeare. 
0,  who  can  hold  a  fire  in  his  hand, 
By  thinking  on  the  frosty  Caucasus  ? 
Or  cloy  the  hungry  edge  of  appetite, 
By  bare  Imagination  of  a  feast? 
Or  wallow  naked  in  December  snow, 
By  thinking  on  fantastic  Summer's  heat  ? 
0  no  !  the  apprehension  of  the  good 
Gives  but  the  greater  feeling  to  the  worse : 
Fell  Sorrow's  tooth  doth  never  rankle  more, 
Than  when  it  bites,  but  lanceth  not  the  sore. 

DetotOn-  —  Shakspeare. 
'THIS  is  the  excellent  Foppery  of  the  World !  that,  when  we  are 
sick  in  fortune,  (often  the  surfeit  of  our  own  behaviour,)  we 
make  guilty  of  our  disasters,  the  sun,  the  moon,  and  the  stars :  as 
if  we  were  villains  by  necessity ;  fools,  by  heavenly  compulsion ; 
knaves,  thieves,  and  treachers,  by  spherical  predominance ;  drunk- 
ards, liars,  and  adulterers,  by  an  enforced  obedience  of  planetary 
influence ;  and  all  that  we  are  evil  in  by  a  divine  thrusting  on. 

B  elUStOTt.  —  Shakspeare. 
T)ANGrEROUS  Conceits  are,  in  their  natures,  poisons, 

Which,  at  the  first,  are  scarce  found  to  distaste; 
But  with  a  little  act  upon  the  blood, 
Burn  like  the  mines  of  sulphur. 

B  elUStOn.  —  Shakspeare. 
0  thoughts  of  men  accurst ! 
Past,  and  to  come,  seem  best;  things  present,  worst. 

DelUSion.  —  Fronde. 
TTOW  oft  that  Virtue,  which  some  Women  boast, 

And  pride  themselves  in,  is  but  an  Empty  Name, 
No  real  good  :  in  thought  alone  possessed. 
Safe  in  the  want  of  charms,  the  homely  Dame, 
Secure  from  the  seducing  arts  of  man, 
Deceives  herself,  and  thinks  she's  passing  chaste ; 
Wonders  how  others  e'er  could  fall,  yet  when 
She  talks  most  loud  about  the  noisy  nothing, 
Look  on  ber  Face,  and  there  you  read  her  Virtue. 

DelUSion.  —  Shakspeare. 

For  love  of  Grace, 
Lay  not  that  flattering  unction  to  your  soul; 
It  will  but  skin  and  film  the  ulcerous  place; 
Whiles  rank  Corruption,  mining  all  within, 
Infects  unseen. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  109 

Cf)e  IBemagoflue.—  Sir  A.  Hunt. 

T  DO  despise  these  Demagogues,  that  fret 
The  angry  Multitude  :  they  are  but  as 
The  froth  upon  the  mountain-wave — the  bird 
That  shrieks  upon  the  sullen  tempest's  wing. 

BemOCraCg.  —  Fisher  Ames. 
TNTELLECTUAL  superiority  is  so  far  from  conciliating  confi- 
dence, that  it  is  the  very  spirit  of  a  democracy,  as  in  France,  to 
proscribe  the  aristocracy  of  talents.  To  be  the  favourite  of  an  igno- 
rant multitude,  a  man  must  descend  to  their  level ;  he  must  desire 
what  they  desire,  and  detest  all  they  do  not  approve  :  he  must  yield 
to  their  prejudices,  and  substitute  them  for  principles.  Instead  of 
enlightening  their  errors,  he  must  adopt  them;  he  must  furnish  the 
sophistry  that  will  propagate  and  defend  them. 

American  Democracy.— Jefferson. 

TTQUAL  and  exact  justice  to  all  men,  of  whatever  state  or  persua- 
sion, religious  or  political ;  peace,  commerce,  and  honest  friend- 
ship with  all  nations,  entangling  alliances  with  none ;  the  support 
of  the  state  governments  in  all  their  rights,  as  the  most  competent 
administrations  for  our  domestic  concerns,  and  the  surest  bulwarks 
against  anti-republican  tendencies ;  the  preservation  of  the  general 
government  in  its  whole  constitutional  vigour,  as  the  sheet-anchor 
of  our  peace  at  home,  and  safety  abroad  ;  a  jealous  care  of  the  right 
of  election  by  the  people ;  a  mild  and  safe  corrective  of  abuses, 
which  are  lopped  by  the  sword  of  revolution  where  peaceable  reme- 
dies are  unprovided ;  absolute  acquiescence  in  the  decisions  of  the 
majority,  the  vital  principle  of  republics,  from  which  there  is  no 
appeal  but  to  force,  the  vital  principle  and  immediate  parent  of  des- 
potism ;  a  well  disciplined  militia,  our  best  reliance  in  peace,  and 
for  the  first  moments  of  war,  till  regulars  may  relieve  them  ;  the 
supremacy  of  the  civil  over  the  military  authority ;  economy  in  the 
public  expense,  that  labour  may  be  lightly  burdened ;  the  honest 
payment  of  our  debts,  and  sacred  preservation  of  the  public  faith; 
encouragement  of  agriculture,  and  of  commerce,  as  its  handmaid ; 
the  diffusion  of  information,  and  arraignment  of  all  abuses  at  the 
bar  of  the  public  reason ;  freedom  of  religion  ;  freedom  of  the  press; 
and  freedom  of  person,  under  the  protection  of  the  habeas  corpus  ; 
and  trial  by  juries  impartially  selected. 

iDepUtg.  —  Shakspeare. 
J^  SUBSTITUTE  shines  brightly  as  a  King, 

Until  a  King  be  by;  and  then  his  state 
Empties  itself,  as  doth  an  inland  brook 
Into  the  main  of  waters. 


110  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

BeStre.  —  Shakspeare. 
All  impediments  in  Fancy's  course 
Are  motives  of  more  Fancy. 

BeSOlatUm.  —  Byron. 

My  mother  Earth ! 
And  thou,  fresh  breaking  Day,  and  you,  ye  Mountains, 
Why  are  ye  beautiful  ?     I  cannot  love  ye. 
And  thou,  the  bright  eye  of  the  Universe, 
That  openest  over  all,  and  unto  all 
Art  a  delight — thou  shin'st  not  on  my  heart. 

BeSOlattOn.  —  Maturin. 
THHE  fountain  of  my  heart  dried  up  within  me; 

With  naught  that  loved  me,  and  with  naught  to  love, 
I  stood  upon  the  desert  earth  alone. 
And  in  that  deep  and  utter  Agony, 
Though  then  than  ever  most  unfit  to  die, 
I  fell  upon  my  knees,  and  pray'd  for  Death. 

BttlOlatUm.  —  Thomson. 
jJNHAPPY  he  !  who  from  the  first  of  joys 

Society,  cut  off,  is  left  alone 
Amid  this  world  of  Death.     Day  after  day, 
Sad  on  the  jutting  eminence  he  sits, 
And  views  the  main  that  ever  toils  below; 
Still  fondly  forming  in  the  farthest  verge, 
Where  the  round  ether  mixes  with  the  wave, 
Ships,  dira-discover'd,  dropping  from  the  clouds; 
At  evening,  to  the  setting  sun  he  turns 
A  mournful  eye,  and  down  his  dying  heart 
Sinks  helpless. 

Bespatr.—  miton. 

All  Hope  is  lost 
Of  my  reception  into  grace;  what  worse? 
For  where  no  Hope  is  left,  is  left  no  Fear. 

SeSpatr.  —  Joanna  BaiU'x. 
T>E  it  what  it  may,  or  bliss,  or  torment, 

Annihilation,  dark  and  endless  rest, 
Or  some  dread  thing,  man's  wildest  range  of  thought 
Hath  never  yet  conceived,  that  change  I'll  dare 
Which  makes  me  any  thing  but  what  I  am. 


OR,     THINGS    NEW    AND     OLD.  Ill 

SeSpatC—  Thomson. 
Tis  late  before 
The  brave  Despair. 

Despair.  —  miton. 

"V/TE  miserable  !  which  way  shall  I  fly 

Infinite  wrath,  and  infinite  Despair  ? 
Which  way  T  fly  is  Hell ;  myself  am  Hell  ? 
And  in  the  lowest  deep  a  lower  deep 
Still  threat  ning  to  devour  me  opens  wide, 
To  which  the  Hell  I  sutler  seems  a  Heaven. 

Despair.  —  Shakspeare. 
I  am  one, 
Whom  the  vile  blows  and  buffets  of  the  world 
Have  so  incensed,  that  I  am  reckless  what 
I  do  to  spite  the  world. 

And  I  another, 
So  weary  with  disasters,  tugg'd  with  Fortune, 
That  I  would  set  my  life  on  any  chance, 
To  mend  it  or  be  rid  on't. 

So  cowards  fight,  when  they  can  fly  no  farther; 
So  doves  do  peck  the  falcon's  piercing  talons ; 
So  desperate  thieves,  all  hopeless  of  their  lives, 
Breathe  out  invectives  'gainst  the  officers. 

Bespatr.—  BeatUe. 
~T)READFUL  is  their  doom,  whom  doubt  has  driven 

To  censure  Fate,  and  pious  Hope  forego : 
Like  yonder  blasted  boughs  by  lightning  riven, 
Perfection,  Beauty,  Life,  they  never  know, 
But  frown  on  all  that  pass,  a  Monument  of  Wo. 

Bt$$m.— Collier. 
J^ESPAIR  makes  a  despicable  figure,  and  descends  from  a  mean 
original.  'Tis  the  offspring  of  Fear,  of  Laziness,  and  Impa- 
tience; it  argues  a  defect  of  spirit  and  resolution,  and  oftentimes 
of  honesty  too.  I  would  not  despair,  unless  I  saw  misfortune 
recorded  in  the  Book  of  Fate,  and  signed  and  sealed  by  necessity. 

MtBVm.—  Greoitte. 
J)ESPAIR  gives  the  shocking  ease  to  the  Mind,  that  a  mortifi 
cation  gives  to  the  Body. 

Cf)e  DesptSetr — La  Rochefoucauld. 

It  is  only  those  who  are  despicable  who  fear  being  despised 


112  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Spiritual  l&tBpotwm.—MUton. 

THHEX  shall  they  seek  to  avail  themselves  of  names, 

Places,  and  titles,  and  with  these  to  join 
Secular  pow'r,  though  feigning  still  to  act 
By  spiritual,  to  themselves  appropriating 
The  Spirit  of  God,  promised  alike  and  given 
To  all  believers ;  and  from  that  pretence, 
Spiritual  Laws  by  Carnal  Power  shall  force 
On  every  conscience;  laws  which  none  shall  find 
Left  them  enroll'd,  or  what  the  spirit  within 
Shall  on  the  heart  engrave. 

Spiritual  Despotism*— MOUm. 

TV^OLVES  shall  succeed  for  teachers,  grievous  wolves, 

Who  all  the  sacred  mysteries  of  Heaven 
To  their  own  vile  advantages  shall  turn 
Of  lucre  and  ambition,  and  the  Truth 
With  superstitions  and  traditions  taint. 

Df.Stinp.  —  Robert  Hall. 
'THE  wheels  of  Nature  are  not  made  to  roll  backward  :  every 
thing  presses  on  toward  Eternity  :  from  the  birth  of  Time  an 
impetuous  current  has  set  in,  which  bears  all  the  sons  of  men 
towards  that  interminable  ocean.  Meanwhile  Heaven  is  attracting 
to  itself  whatever  is  congenial  to  its  nature,  is  enriching  itself  by 
the  spoils  of  Earth,  and  collecting  within  its  capacious  bosom 
whatever  is  pure,  permanent,  and  divine. 

Destiny).  —  Cotton, 
r)UR  minds  are  as  different  as  our  faces;  we  are  all  travelling  to 
one  Destination — Happiness ;  but  few  are  going  by  the  same 
road. 

SeSttttg.  —  Cumberland. 
T  DO  not  mean  to  expose  my  ideas  to  ingenious  ridicule  by  main- 
taining that  every  thing  happens  to  every  man  for  the  best; 
but  I  will  contend,  that  he  who  makes  the  best  use  of  it,  fulfils 
the  part  of  a  wise  and  good  man. 

Ditt.  —  Franklin. 

TN  general,  mankind,  since  the  improvement  of  cookery,  eat  about 
twice  as  much  as  nature  requires. 

DtCt.  —  Sir  W.  Temple. 
A  LL  courageous  animal?  are  carnivorous,  and  greater  courage  is 
to  be  expected  in  a  people,  such  as  the  English,  whose  Fool  is 
strong  and  hearty,  than  in    the  half-starved   commonalty  of  other 
countries. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  118 

Mitt.  —  Burton. 
1700D  improperly  taken,  not  only  produces  original  diseases,  but 
affords  those  that  are  already  engendered  both  matter  and  sus- 
tenance;  so  that,  let  the  father  of  disease  be  what  it  may,  In- 
temperance is  certainly  its  mother. 

Bitt  — Pliny. 
QIMPLE  Diet  is  best; — for  many  Dishes  bring  many  diseases; 
and  rich  Sauces  are  worse  than  even  heaping  several  Meats  upon 
each  other. 

Mitt  —  Horace. 
'THE  chief  pleasure  (in  Eating)  does  not  consist  in  costly  Season- 
ing, or  exquisite  Flavour,  but  in  yourself.     Do  you  seek  for 
Sauce  by  sweating. 

Z&itt.  —  Shakspeare. 
THE  veins  unfill'd,  our  blood  is  cold,  and  then 

We  pout  upon  the  morning,  are  unapt 
To  give  or  to  forgive;  but  when  we  have  stuff  d 
These  pipes,  and  these  conveyances  of  our  blood, 
With  Wine  and  Feeding,  we  have  suppler  souls 
Than  in  our  priest-like  fasts. 

diligence.  —  Franklin. 
\yHAT  though  you  have  found  no  treasure,  nor  has  any  rich  re- 
lation left  you  a  legacy.  Diligence  is  the  mother  of  good 
luck,  and  God  gives  all  things  to  industry.  Then  plough  deep 
while  sluggards  sleep,  and  you  shall  have  corn  to  sell  and  to  keep. 
Work  while  it  is  called  to-day,  for  you  know  not  how  much  you 
may  be  hindered  to-morrow.  One  to-day  is  worth  two  to-morrows, 
as  Poor  Richard  says;  and  further,  never  leave  that  till  to-morrow 
which  you  can  do  to-day. 

SKnUlg*—  Johnson. 

"QEFORE  Dinner,  men  meet  with  great  inequality  of  understand- 
ing; and  those  who  are  conscious  of  their  inferiority  have  the 
modesty  not  to  talk :  when  they  have  drunk  Wine,  every  man  feels 
himself  happy,  and  loses  that  modesty,  and  grows  impudent  and 
vociferous;  but  he  is  not  improved;  he  is  only  not  sensible  of  his 
defects. 

discernment.  —  Greviiie. 

T)ISCERNMENT  is  a  power  of  the  understanding  in  which  few 
excel.     Is  not  that  owing  to  its  connection  with  Impartiality 
and  Truth?  for  are  not  Prejudice  and  Partiality  blind? 

Bmivlint.  — Seneca. 

\TO  evil  propensity  of  the  human  heart  is  so  powerful  that  it  may 
not  be  subdued  by  Discipline. 


114  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Bimpline.—Anon. 

J)ISCIPLINE,  like  the  bridle  in  the  hand  of  a  good  rider,  should 
exercise  its  influence  without  appearing  to  do  so;  should  be 
ever  active,  both  as  a  support  and  as  a  restraint,  yet  seem  to  lie 
easily  in  hand.  It  must  always  be  ready  to  check  or  to  pull  up, 
as  occasion  may  require;  and  only  when  the  horse  is  a  runaway, 
should  the  action  of  the  curb  be  perceptible. 

Bimvlint.  —  Shakspeare. 

Now,  as  fond  fathers, 
Having  bound  up  the  threat'ning  twigs  of  birch, 
Only  to  stick  it  in  their  children's  sight, 
For  terror,  not  to  use;  in  time  the  rod 
Becomes  more  mock'd  than  fear'd :  so  our  decrees, 
Dead  to  infliction,  to  themselves  are  dead; 
And  Liberty  plucks  Justice  by  the  nose ; 
The  baby  beats  the  nurse,  and  quite  athwart 
Goes  all  Decorum. 

StSCtplme.  —  Shakspeare. 
Had  doting  Priam  check'd  his  son's  desire, 
Troy  had  been  bright  with  fame,  and  not  with  fire. 

BiztmUnt.— Bishop  Hail 

'THE  Malecontent  is  neither  well,  full  nor  fasting;  and  though  he 
abound  with  complaints,  yet  nothing  dislikes  him  but  the  present; 
for  what  he  condemns  while  it  was,  once  passed,  he  magnifies  and 
strives  to  recall  it  out  of  the  jaws  of  time.  What  he  hath  he  seeth 
not,  his  eyes  are  so  taken  up  with  what  he  wants;  and  what  he  sees 
he  careth  not  for,  because  he  cares  so  much  for  that  which  is  not. 

33t0COC"b.  —  Peter  Pindar. 
T^ISCORD,  a  sleepless  hag,  who  never  dies, 

With  snipe-like  nose,  aud  ferret-glowiug  eyes; 
Lean,  sallow  cheeks,  long  chin,  with  beard  supplied, 
Poorvicrackling  joints,  and  wither'd  parchment  hide, 
As  if  old  drums,  worn  out  with  martial  din, 
Had  clubb'd  their  yellow  heads  to  form  her  skin. 

StgCOCtl.  —  Shakspeare. 
TPHIS  late  Dissension,  grown  betwixt  the  peers, 

Burns  under  feign'd  ashes  of  forged  love, 
And  will  at  last  break  out  into  a  flame, 
As  fester'd  members  rot  but  by  degrees, 
Till  bones,  and  flesh,  and  sinews,  fall  away, 
So  will  this  base  and  envious  Discord  breed. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  115 

BtSCOttiance.  —  Shakspeare. 
How  sour  sweet  Music  is, 
When  Time  is  broke,  and  no  Proportion  kept! 
So  is  it  in  the  Music  of  Men's  Lives. 

Siscoberg.—  Coiton. 

TT  has  been  asked,  which  are  the  greatest  minds,  and  to  which 
do  we  owe  the  greatest  reverence  ?  To  those  who  by  the 
powerful  deductions  of  their  Reason,  and  the  well-grounded  sugges- 
tions of  Analogy,  have  made  profound  discoveries  in  the  sciences, 
as  it  were  d  priori ;  or  to  those,  who,  by  the  patient  road  of 
Experiment,  and  the  subsequent  improvement  of  instruments,  have 
brought  these  discoveries  to  perfection,  as  it  were  d  posteriori? 
Who  have  rendered  that  certain  which  before  was  only  conjectural, 
practical  which  was  problematical,  safe  which  was  dangerous,  and 
subservient  which  was  unmanageable  ?  It  would  seem  that  the 
first  class  demand  our  admiration,  and  the  second  our  gratitude. 
Seneca  predicted  another  hemisphere,  but  Columbus  presented  us 
with  it. 

©tscobertes.—  Coiton. 

TT  is  a  mortifying  truth,  and  ought  to  teach  the  wisest  of  us 
humility,  that  many  of  the  most  valuable  Discoveries  have  been 
the  result  of  chance,  rather  than  of  contemplation,  and  of  accident 
rather  than  of  design. 

Discretion.  —  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
TEST  not  openly  at  those  that  are  simple,  but  remember  how 
much  thou  art  bound  to  God,  who  hath  made  thee  wiser. 
Defame  not  any  woman  publicly,  though  thou  know  her  to  be  evil; 
for  those  that  are  faulty  cannot  endure  to  be  taxed,  but  will  seek 
to  be  avenged  of  thee;  and  those  that  are  not  guilty,  cannot  endure 
unjust  reproach.  As  there  is  nothing  more  shameful  and  dishonest 
than  to  do  wrong,  so  truth  itself  cutteth  his  throat  that  carrieth 
her  publicly  in  every  place.  Remember  the  divine  saying,  he  that 
keepeth  his  mouth,  keepeth  his  life. 

Mztutinn.  —  Hume. 

rrHE   greatest   parts  without   Discretion  may  be   fatal   to   theii 
owner;    as  Polyphemus,   deprived  of   his  eye,   was   only  the 
more  exposed  on  account  of  his  enormous  strength  and  stature. 

discretion.  —  Zimmerman. 
QPEN  your  mouth  and  purse  cautiously  ;    and  your  stock  of 
wealth  and  reputation  shall,  at  least  in  repute,  be  great. 

L 


116  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

ZBmxttion.  —  Coiton. 

TF  a  cause  be  good,  the  most  violent  attack  of  its  enemies  will  not 
injure  it  so  much  as  an  injudicious  defence  of  it  by  its  friends. 
Theodoret  and  others,  who  gravely  defend  the  monkish  miracles, 
and  the  luminous  cross  of  Constantine,  by  their  zeal  without 
knowledge,  and  devotion  without  Discretion,  have  hurt  the  cause 
of  Christianity  more  by  such  friendship  than  the  apostate  Julian 
by  his  hostility,  notwithstanding  all  the  wit  and  vigour  with  which 
it  was  conducted. 

IBtSCrettOn.  —Addison. 
'THERE  are  many  more  shining  qualities  in  the  mind  of  man,  but 
there  is  none  so  useful  as  Discretion ;  it  is  this  indeed  which 
gives  a  value  to  all  the  rest,  which  sets  them  at  work  in  their 
proper  times  and  places,  and  turns  them  to  the  advantage  of  the 
person  who  is  possessed  of  them.  Without  it,  Learning  is  Pedantry 
and  Wit  Impertinence ;  Virtue  itself  looks  like  Weakness ;  the 
best  parts  only  qualify  a  man  to  be  more  sprightly  in  errors,  and 
active  to  his  own  prejudice. 

iBiSCUSStOn.—  Bishop  Watson. 
T^THOSOEVER  is  afraid  of  submitting  any  Question,  civil  or 
religious,  to  the  test  of  free  Discussion,  is  more  in  love  with 
his  own  opinion  than  with  Truth. 

Mi$W8t8.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

Diseases,  desperate  grown, 
By  desperate  appliances  are  relieved, 
Or  not  at  all. 

Btsinterestetmess.  —  Anon. 

TV/TEN  of  the  world  hold  that  it  is  impossible  to  do  a  Disinterested 
Action,  except  from  an  Interested  Motive;  for  the  sake  of 
admiration,  if  for  no  grosser,  more  tangible  gain.  Doubtless  they 
are  also  convinced,  that,  when  the  sun  is  showering  light  from  the 
sky,  he  is  only  standing  there  to  be  stared  at. 

33  imputation.  —  Socrates. 
TF  thou  continuest  to  take  delight  in  idle  Argumentation,  thou 
mayst  be  qualified  to  combat  with  the  Sophists,  but  wilt  never 
know  how  to  live  with  men. 

dFamilg  UBiSSenSion.  —  From  the  Latin. 
T^ROM  what  stranger  can  you  expect  attachment,  if  you  are  at 
variance  with  your  own  Relations  ? 

©iSSintUlation.  —La  Bruyere. 
TYTSSIMULATION,  even  the   most  innocent  in   its  nature,  is 
ever  productive  of  embarrassment ;  whether  the  design  is  evil 
or  not,  artifice  is   always  dangerous  and    almost   inevitablj'   dis- 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND   OLD.  117 

graceful.  The  best  and  the  most  safe  policy  is,  never  to  have  re- 
course to  Deception,  to  avail  yourself  of  Quirks,  or  to  practise  low- 
Cunning,  and  to  prove  yourself  in  every  circumstance  of  your  life 
equally  upright  and  sincere.  This  system  is  naturally  that  which 
noble  minds  will  adopt,  and  the  dictates  of  an  enlightened  and  su- 
perior understanding  would  be  sufficient  to  insure  its  adoption. 

BUESStmulatiOtt.  —Lord  Bacon. 
J)ISSIMULATION  is  but  a  faint  kind  of  policy  or  wisdom  j  for 
it  asketh  a  strong  wit  and  a  strong  heart  to  know  when  to  tell 
truth,  and  to  do  it :  therefore  it  is  the  weaker  sort  of  politicians 
that  are  the  greatest  Dissemblers. 

DOCtlttg.  —  Manlius. 
A    Docile  Disposition  will,  with  application,  surmount  every  diffi- 
culty. 

Dogmatism.— Hume. 

\\THERE  men  are  the  most  sure  and  arrogant,  they  are  com- 
monly the    most    mistaken,  and    have  there    given  reins    to 
passion,  without  that  proper  deliberation  and  suspense,  which  can 
alone  secure  them  from  the  grossest  absurdities. 

BxamZ.—Coicper. 

Ten  thousand  Casks, 
For  ever  dribbling  out  their  base  contents, 
Touch'd  by  the  Midas  finger  of  the  state, 
Bleed  gold  for  Ministers  to  sport  away. 
Drink  and  be  mad  then.     ;Tis  your  Country  bids. 
Gloriously  drunk,  obey  th'  important  call, 
Her  cause  demands  th'  assistance  of  your  Throats  : 
Ye  all  can  swallow,  and  she  asks  no  more. 

Dreaming.  —Novoli*. 

We  are  near  waking,  when  we  dream  that  we  dream. 

Dreams.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
TF  I  may  trust  the  flattering  truth  of  Sleep, 

My  dreams  presage  some  joyful  news  at  hand: 
My  bosom's  lord  sits  lightly  on  his  throne, 
And,  all  this  day,  an  unaccustom'd  spirit 
Lifts  me  above  the  ground  with  cheerful  thoughts. 
I  dreamt,  my  lady  came  and  found  me  dead, 
(Strange  Dream  !  that  gives  a  dead  man  leave  to  think,) 
And  breath'd  such  life  with  kisses  in  my  lips, 
That  I  revived,  and  was  an  emperor. 
Ah  me  !  how  sweet  is  love  itself  possest, 
When  but  love's  shadows  are  so  rich  in  joy  ? 


118  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

Duamz.—  Coiton. 

METAPHYSICIANS  have  been  learning  their  lesson  for  tho 
last  four  thousand  years,  and  it  is  high  time  that  they  should 
now  begin  to  teach  us  something.  Can  any  of  the  tribe  inform  us 
why  all  the  operations  of  the  mind  are  carried  on  with  undiminished 
strength  and  activity  in  Dreams,  except  the  Judgment,  which  alone 
is  suspended,  and  dormant.  This  faculty  of  the  mind  is  in  a  state 
of  total  inefficiency  during  Dreams.  Let  any  man  carefully  examine 
his  own  experience  on  this  subject,  and  he  will  find  that  the  most 
glaring  incongruities  of  time,  the  most  palpable  contradictions  of 
place,  and  the  grossest  absurdities  of  circumstance,  are  most  glibly 
swallowed  down  by  the  Dreamer,  without  the  slightest  dissent  or 
demurrage  of  the  Judgment.  The  moment  we  are  wide  awake  the 
Judgment  reassumes  her  functions,  and  shocks  us  with  surprise  at 
a  credulity  that  even  in  sleep  could  reconcile  such  a  tissue  of 
inconsistencies. 

23  Watttg.  —  Shakspeare. 
T'HY  spirit  within  thee  hath  been  so  at  war, 

And  thus  hath  so  bestirr'd  thee  in  thy  Sleep 
That  beads  of  sweat  have  stood  upon  thy  brow, 
Like  bubbles  in  a  late-disturbed  stream; 
And  in  thy  face  strange  motions  have  appear'd, 
Such  as  we  see  when  men  restrain  their  breath 
On  some  great  sudden  haste. 

BreamS,— Dryden. 
T)REAMS  are  but  interludes  which  Fancy  makes. 

When  monarch  Reason  sleeps,  this  mimic  wakes  : 
Compounds  a  medly  of  disjointed  things, 
A  mob  of  cobblers,  and  a  court  of  kings  : 
Light  fumes  are  merry,  grosser  fumes  are  sad 
Both  are  the  reasonable  soul  run  mad  : 
And  many  monstrous  forms  in  Sleep  we  see, 
That  neither  were,  nor  are,  nor  e'er  can  be. 
Sometimes  forgotten  things,  long  cast  behind, 
Rush  forward  in  the  brain,  and  come  to  mind. 

3&KZ%$*  —  Shakspeare. 
\\rHAT,  is  the  Jay  more  precious  than  the  Lark 

Because  his  feathers  are  more  beautiful  ? 
Or  is  the  Adder  better  than  the  Eel, 
Because  his  painted  skin  contents  the  eye? 
Oh  no,  good  Kate ;  neither  art  thou  the  worse 
For  this  poor  Furniture,  and  mean  Array. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW   AND    OLD.  IIP 

Dreams  —  Shakspeare. 
TYREAMS  are  the  children  of  an  idle  brain, 

Begot  of  nothing  but  vain  Fantasy  ; 
Which  is  as  thin  of  substance  as  the  air; 
And  more  inconstant  than  the  wind. 

DreSS.  —  Sir  Jonah  Barrington. 
T)RESS  has  a  moral  effect  upon  the  conduct  of  mankind.     Let  any 
gentleman  find  himself  with  dirty  Boots,  old  Surtout,  soiled 
Neckcloth,  and  a  general  negligence  of  Dress,  he  will,  in  all  proba- 
bility, find  a  corresponding  disposition  by  negligence  of  address. 

DtCSS.  —  Cotpper. 
\\TE  sacrifice  to  Dress,  till  household  joys 

And  comforts  cease.     Dress  drains  our  cellar  dry, 
And  keeps  our  larder  lean.     Puts  out  our  fires, 
And  introduces  Hunger,  Frost,  and  Wo, 
Where  Peace  and  Hospitality  might  reign. 

2Bte$0.  —  Goldsmith. 

PROCESSIONS,  Cavalcades,  and  all  that  fund  of  gay  Frippery, 

furnished  out  by  tailors,  barbers,  and  tire-women,  mechanically 

influence  the  mind  into  veneration  :  an  emperor  in  his  night-cap 

would  not  meet  with  half  the  respect  of  an  emperor  with  a  crown. 

Drototthtg.  —  Shakspeare. 
C\  LORD  !  methought  what  pain  it  was  to  drown  ! 

What  dreadful  noise  of  Water  in  my  ears  ! 
What  sights  of  ugly  death  within  mine  eyes  ! 
Methought  I  saw  a  thousand  fearful  wrecks, 
A  thousand  men,  that  fishes  gnaw'd  upon. 

Unftgetjg.— Longfellow. 

'"THE  every-day  cares  and  duties,  which  men  call  drudgery,  are 
the  weights  and  counterpoises  of  the  clock  of  time,  giving  its  pen- 
dulum a  true  vibration,  and  its  hands  a  regular  motion;  and  when 
they  cease  to  hang  upon  the  wheels,  the  pendulum  no  longer 
swings,  the  hands  no  longer  move,  the  clock  stands  still. 

Drunkenness.  —  ShensUme. 

pEOPLE  say,  "Do  not  regard  what  he  says,  now  he  is  in  liquor." 
Perhaps  it  is  the  only  time  he  ought  to  be  regarded  :  Aperit, 
prsecordia  liber. 

Drunkenness.  —  Coiton. 

J)RUNKENNESS  is  the  vice  of  a  good  Constitution,  or  of  a  bad 
Memory  ;  of  a  Constitution  so  treacherously  good,  that  it  never 
bends  until  it  breaks ;  or  of  a  Memory  that  recollects  the  pleasures 
of  getting  drunk,  or  forgets  the  pains  of  getting  sober. 

l2 


120  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

DtUttkcniUSg.  —  Shakspcare. 
Q  THOU  invisible  spirit  of  Wine,  if  thou  hast  no  name  to  be 
known  by,  let  us  call  thee — Devil !  *  *  *  0,  that  men 
should  put  an  enemy  to  their  mouths,  to  steal  away  their  brains! 
that  we  should,  with  joy,  revel,  pleasure,  and  applause,  transform 
ourselves  into  beasts ! 

Drunkenness.  —  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
TT  were  better  for  a  man  to  be  subject  to  any  vice,  than  to  Drunk- 
enness :  for  all  other  vanities  and  sins  are  recovered,  but  a 
Drunkard  willnever  shake  off  the  delight  of  Beastliness;  for  the 
longer  it  possesseth  a  man,  the  more  he  will  delight  in  it,  and  the 
elder  he  groweth  the  more  he  shall  be  subject  to  it;  for  it  dulleth 
the  spirits,  and  destroyeth  the  body  as  ivy  doth  the  old  tree;  or  as 
the  worm  that  engendereth  in  the  kernel  of  the  nut. 

Drunkenness.  —  Shakspeare. 
T^THATS  a  Drunken  Man  like?     Like  a  drown'd  man,  a  fool, 
and  a  madman :   one  draught  above  heat  makes  him  a  fool ; 
the  second  mads  him ;  and  a  third  drowns  him. 

Dull  i^len.  —  Bishop  Earle. 
(^j-REAT  brains  (like  brightest  glass)  crack  straight,  while  those 

Of  stone  or  wood  hold  out,  and  fear  no  blows; 
And  we  their  ancient  hoary  heads  can  see 
Whose  Wit  was  never  their  Mortality. 

Dull  iften.  —  Saville. 
A    DULL  Man  is  so  near  a  dead  man,  that  he  is  hardly  to  be 
ranked  in  the  list  of  the  living ;  and  as  he  is  not  to  be  buried 
whilst  he  is  half  alive,  so  he  is  as  little  to  be  employed  whilst  he  is 
half  dead. 

Duping.  —  Bulwer  Lytton. 
HTHE  surest  way  of  making  a  Dupe  is  to  let  your  Victim  suppose 
that  you  are  his. 

Dupltettg.  —  Shakspeare. 
C\  WHAT  may  man  within  him  hide, 
Though  angel  on  the  outward  side  ! 
How  many  Likeness,  made  in  crimes, 
Making  practice  on  the  times, 
Draw  with  idle  spiders'  strings 
Most  pond'rous  and  substantial  things! 


OR,  THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  121 

SOftal  DllttCS.  —  Kant. 
TK)TH  Love  of  Mankind,  and  Respect  for  their  Rights,  are  Du- 
ties ;  the  former,  however,  are  only  a  conditional,  the  latter  an 
unconditional,  purely  imperative  Duty,  which  he  must  be  perfectly 
certain  not  to  have  transgressed,  who  would  give  himself  up  to  the 
secret  emotions  arising  from  Beneficence. 

Dutg.—  Anon. 
F)UTY  is  above  all  consequences,  and  often,  at  a  crisis  of  diffi- 
culty, commands  us  to  throw  them  overboard.  Flat  Justitfu, 
pereat  mundus.  It  commands  us  to  look  neither  to  the  right,  nor 
to  the  left,  but  straight  onward.  Hence  every  signal  act  of  Duty 
is  altogether  an  act  of  Faith.  It  is  performed  in  the  assurance  that 
God  will  take  care  of  the  consequences,  and  will  so  order  the  course 
of  the  world,  that,  whatever  the  immediate  results  may  be,  His 
word  shall  not  return  to  Him  empty. 

i3aclg   MtStrtg.  —  Thomson. 

Is  there  aught  in  Sleep  can  charm  the  wise 
To  ne  in  dead  oblivion,  losing  half 
The  fleeting  moments  of  too  short  a  life; 
Total  extinction  of  the  enlighten'd  soul! 
Or  else  to  feverish  vanity  alive, 
Wilder'd,  and  tossing  thro'  distemper'd  Dreams? 
Who  would  in  such  a  gloomy  state  remain 
Longer  than  nature  craves;  when  ev'ry  muse 
And  every  blooming  pleasure  wait  without, 
To  bless  the  wildly  devious  Morning  walk? 

l^arlp  Ittstitg.— Coiton. 

OLD  men,  it  would  seem,  were  to  be  found  among  those  who  had 
travelled,  and  those  who  had  never  been  out  of  their  own  parish. 
Excess  could  produce  her  veterans,  no  less  than  Temperance,  since 
some  had  kept  off  the  grim  tyrant  by  libations  of  wine,  as  success- 
fully as  others  by  potations  of  water;  and  some  by  copious  appli- 
cations of  brandy  and  of  gin  seem  to  have  kept  off  their  summons 
to  the  Land  of  Spirits.  In  short  it  appeared  that  many  who  agreed 
in  scarcely  any  thing  else,  agreed  in  having  attained  longevity. 
But  there  were  only  two  questions,  in  which  they  all  agreed,  and 
these  two  questions,  when  put,  were  always  answered  in  the  affirma- 
tive by  the  oldest  of  those  Greenwich  and  Chelsea  pensioners  to 
whom  they  were  proposed.  The  questions  were  these :  Were  you 
descended  from  parents  of  good  stamina?  and  have  you  been  in  the 
habit  of  Early  Rising?  Early  Rising,  therefore,  not  only  gives  to 
us  more  life  in  the  same  number  of  our  years,  but  adds  likewise  to 
their  number;  and  not  only  enables  us  to  enjoy  more  of  existence 
in  the  same  measure  of  time,  but  increases  also  the  measure. 


122  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 


IHatlg  Ifctgrng.  —  cwfow. 

XTO  man  can  promise  himself  even  fifty  years  of  life,  but  any 
man  may,  if  he  please,  live  in  the  proportion  of  fifty  years  in 
forty; — let  him  rise  early,  that  he  may  have  the  day  before  him, 
and  let  him  make  the  most  of  the  day,  by  determining  to  expend 
it  on  two  sorts  of  acquaintance  only, — those  by  whom  something 
may  be  got,  and  those  from  whom  somethiug  may  be  learnt. 

IBaWeStneSS.  —  Anon. 
HPHE  reason  why  Delivery  is  of  such  force,  is  that,  unless  a  man 
appears  by  his  outward  Look  and  Gesture  to  be  himself  animated 
by  the  truths  he  is  uttering,  he  will  not  animate  his  hearers.  It  is 
the  live  coal  that  kindles  others,  not  the  dead.  Nay,  the  same 
principle  applies  to  all  oratory;  and  what  made  Demosthenes  the 
greatest  of  orators,  was  that  he  appeared  the  most  entirely  possest 
by  the  feelings  he  wished  to  inspire.  The  main  use  of  his  vrtoxpuus 
was,  that  it  enabled  him  to  remove  the  natural  hinderances  which 
checked  and  clogged  the  stream  of  those  feelings,  and  to  pour  them 
forth  with  a  free  and  mighty  torrent  that  swept  his  audience  along. 
The  effect  produced  by  Charles  Fox,  who  by  the  exaggeration  of 
party-spirit  was  often  compared  to  Demosthenes,  seems  to  have 
arisen  wholly  from  this  earnestness,  which  made  up  for  the  want 
of  almost  every  grace,  both  of  manner  and  style. 

ISartfttJUalte.  —  Shakspeare. 
TYTSEASED  Nature  oftentimes  breaks  forth 

In  strange  eruptions;  and  the  teeming  Earth 
Is  with  a  kind  of  cholic  pinch'd  and  vext, 
By  the  imprisoning  of  unruly  wind 
Within  her  womb;  which,  for  enlargement  striving, 
Shakes  the  old  beldam  Earth,  and  topples  down 
Steeples,  and  moss-grown  towers. 

ISadfjg.  —  Shakspeare. 
'Tis  but  a  base  ignoble  Mind, 
That  mounts  no  higher  than  a  Bird  can  soar. 

ISasg  Cemper  —  Grcviiu. 

TT  is  an  unhappy,  and  yet  I  fear  a  true  reflection,  that  they  who 
have  uncommon  Easiness  and  Softness  of  Temper,  have  seldom 
very  noble  and  nice  sensations  of  soul. 

iSCOnnrng.  _  Hawkesworth. 
"PCONOMY  is  the  parent  of  Integrity,  of  Liberty,  and  of  Ease; 
and  the  beauteous  sister  of  Temperance,  of  Cheerfulness,  and 
Health :  and  Profuseness  is  a  cruel  and  crafty  demon,  that  gradually 
involves  her  followers  in  dependence  and  debts;  that  is,  fetters 
them  with  "irons  that  enter  into  their  souls." 


OR,     THINGS    NEW  AND    OLD.  122 


lEtmcatton.  —  Coiton. 

TT  is  adverse  to  talent,  to  be  consorted  and  trained  up  with  in- 
ferior minds,  or  inferior  companions,  however  high  they  may  rank.. 
The  foal  of  the  racer  neither  finds  out  his  speed,  nor  calls  out  hit; 
powers,  if  pastured  out  with  the  common  herd,  that  are  destined  foi 
the  collar  and  the  yoke. 

13trUCatl0tt Horace. 

[JNLESS  your  cask  is  perfectly  clean,  whatever  you  pour  into  it 
turns  sour. 

IStmcattOTX.  —  GrevOie. 
THHE  more  perfect  the  nature,  the  more  weak,  the  more  wrong, 
the  more  absurd,  may  be  the  something  in  a  character  :  to 
explain  the  paradox,  if  a  mind  is  delicate  and  susceptible,  false  im- 
pressions in  Education  will  have  a  bad  effect  in  proportion  to  that 
susceptibility,  and  consequently  may  produce  an  evil  which  a  stupid 
and  insensible  nature  might  have  avoided. 

ISfiUCatUm.  —  Shakspeare. 
Now  'tis  the  spring,  and  weeds  are  shallow  rooted ; 
Suffer  them  now,  and  they'll  o'ergrow  the  garden, 
And  choke  the  herbs  for  want  of  husbandry. 

IHtlUCattOtt.  —  Webster. 
T7"N0WLEDGE  does  not  comprise  all  which  is  contained  in  the 
large  term  of  education.  The  feelings  are  to  be  disciplined,  the 
passions  are  to  be  restrained;  true  and  worthy  motives  are  to  be 
inspired;  a  profound  religious  feeling  is  to  be  instilled,  and  pure 
morality  inculcated  under  all  circumstances.  All  this  is  comprised 
in  education. 

popular  IStJUCatiOtt.  —  Washington. 
X>ROMOTE,  as  an  object  of  primary  importance,  institutions  for 
the  general  diffusion  of  knowledge.     In  proportion  as  the  struc- 
ture of  a  government  gives  force  to  public  opinion,  it  should  be 
enlightened. 

ISgOttSHt.  —  Lavaier. 
'THE  more  any  one  speaks  of  himself,  the  less  he  likes  to  hear 
another  talked  of. 

IHgOttSttt.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
TTE  who  thinks  he  can  find  in  himself  the  means  of  doing  without 
others  is  much  mistaken  ;  but  he  who  thinks  that  others  can- 
not do  without  him  is  still  more  mistaken. 

ISlOQUeitCe.  —  Drijden. 
Your  Words  are  like  the  notes  of  dying  swans, 
Too  sweet  to  last ! 


124        ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Eloquence.—  Byron. 
gINCERE  be  was — at  least  you  could  not  doubt  it, 

In  listening  merely  to  his  Voice's  Tone. 
The  Devil  hath  not  in  all  his  quiver's  choice, 
An  arrow  for  the  heart  like  a  Sweet  Voice. 

ISlo  pence.—  miton. 

His  Tongue 
Dropt  manna,  and  could  make  the  worse  appear 
The  better  reason,  to  perplex  and  dash 
Maturest  counsels 

IBlopenCC.  —  Havard. 
Q  ELOQUENCE  !  thou  violated  fair, 

How  art  thou  woo'd,  and  won  to  either  bed 
Of  Right  or  Wrong  !     Oh  !  when  Injustice  folds  thee, 
Dost  thou  not  curse  thy  charms  for  pleasing  him, 
And  blush  at  conquest  ? 

ISlo  pence.—  Rowe. 

Oh  !  I  know 
Thou  hast  a  tongue  to  charm  the  wildest  tempers ; 
Herds  would  forget  to  graze,  and  savage  beasts 
Stand  still,  and  lose  their  fierceness,  but  to  hear  thee, 
As  if  they  had  reflection  :  and  by  reason, 
Forsook  a  less  enjoyment  for  a  greater. 

IHlO  QUettCe.  —  Dryden. 
When  he  spoke,  what  tender  Words  he  used  ! 
So  softly,  that  like  flakes  of  feather'd  snow, 
They  melted  as  they  fell. 

IS  lo  pence.  —  Coiton. 

EXTEMPORANEOUS  and  oral  harangues  will  always  have  this 
advantage  over  those  that  are  read  from  a  manuscript ;  every 
burst  of  Eloquence  or  spark  of  genius  they  may  contain,  however 
studied  they  may  have  been  beforehand,  will  appear  to  the  audi- 
ence to  be  the  effect  of  the  sudden  inspiration  of  talent.  Whereas 
similar  efforts,  when  written,  although  they  may  not  cost  the  writer 
half  the  time  in  his  closet,  will  never  be  appreciated  as  any  thing 
more  than  the  slow  efforts  of  long  study  and  laborious  application ; 
olehunt  oleum,  esli  non  oleant!  and  this  circumstance  it  is  that  gives 
such  peculiar  success  to  a  pointed  reply,  since  the  hearers  are  cer- 
tain that  in  this  case  all  study  is  out  of  the  question,  that  the  Elo- 
quence arises  ex  re  nata,  and  that  the  brilliancy  has  been  elicited 
from  the  collision  of  another  mind,  as  rapidly  as  the  spark  from 
the  steel. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  125 

IHlOQUeitCe.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
'THERE  is  as  much  Eloquence  in  the  Tone  of  Voice,  in  the  eyes, 
and  in  the  air  of  a  Speaker,  as  in  his  choice  of  Words. 

IHlcquettCe.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
'TRUE   eloquence   consists   in   saying  all  that  is  necessary,  and 
nothing  but  what  is  necessary. 

ISloqUCnce.—  Hare. 
"lyTANY  are  ambitious  of  saying  grand  things,  that  is,  of  being 
grandiloquent.     Eloquence  is  speaking  out  ...  a  quality  few 
esteem,  and  fewer  aim  at. 

ISloquence*  —  steme. 

/^j-REAT  is  the  power  of  Eloquence ;  but  never  is  it  so  great  as 
when  it  pleads  along  with  nature,  and  the  culprit  is  a  child 
strayed  from  his  duty,  and  returned  to  it  again  with  tears. 

iSlOQUence,—  Webster. 
TRUE  eloquence,  indeed,  does  not  consist  in  speech.  It  cannot 
be  brought  from  far.  Labour  and  learning  may  toil  for  it,  but 
they  will  toil  in  vain.  Words  and  phrases  may  be  marshalled  in 
every  way,  but  they  cannot  compass  it.  It  must  exist  in  the  man, 
in  the  subject,  and  in  the  occasion.  Affected  passion,  intense  ex- 
pression, the  pomp  of  declamation,  all  may  aspire  after  it — they 
cannot  reach  it.  It  comes,  if  it  come  at  all,  like  the  outbreaking  of 
a  fountain  from  the  earth,  or  the  bursting  forth  of  volcanic  tires 
with  spontaneous,  original,  native  force.  The  graces  taught  in  the 
schools,  the  costly  ornaments  and  studied  contrivances  of  speech, 
shock  and  disgust  men,  when  their  own  lives,  and  the  fate  of  their 
wives,  their  children,  and  their  country  hang  on  the  decision  of  the 
hour.  Then,  words  have  lost  their  power,  rhetoric  is  vain,  and  all 
elaborate  oratory  contemptible.  Even  genius  itself  then  feels  re- 
buked and  subdued,  as  in  the  presence  of  higher  qualities.  Then, 
patriotism  is  eloquent;  then,  self-devotion  is  eloquent.  The  clear 
conception  outrunning  the  deduction  of  logic,  the  high  purpose,  the 
firm  resolve,  the  dauntless  spirit,  speaking  on  the  tongue,  beaming 
from  the  eye,  informing  every  feature,  and  urging  the  whole  man 
onward,  right  onward  to  his  object — this,  this  is  eloquence ;  or 
rather  it  is  something  greater  and  higher  than  all  eloquence — it  is 
action,  noble,  sublime,  godlike  action. 

?£mtnettCe.  —Addison. 
TT  is  a  folly  for  an  Eminent  Man  to  think  of  escaping  censure,  and 
a  weakness  to  be  affected  with  it.     All  the  illustrious  persons  of 
Antiquity,  and  indeed  of  every  age    in    the  world,  have  passed 
through  this  fiery  persecution. 


126  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

iSmplOgment.  —  Young. 
TIFE'S  cares  are  comforts;  such  by  Heaven  design'd ; 
He  that  has  none,  must  make  them,  or  be  wretched. 
Cares  are  Employments;  and  without  Employ 
The  soul  is  on  a  rack ;  the  rack  of  rest, 
To  souls  most  adverse  ;  Action  all  their  joy. 

ISmplOgment.  —  Burton. 
EMPLOYMENT,  which  Galen  calls  "  nature's  physician,"  is  so 
essential  to   human  happiness,   that  Indolence  is  justly  con- 
sidered as  the  mother  of  Misery. 

.ISmplOgtttent.  —  La  Bruyere. 
T  AZINESS  begat  wearisomeness,  and  this  put  men  in  quest  of 
diversions,   play   and    company,   on   which    however   it   is    a 
constant  attendant;  he  who  works  hard,  has  enough  to  do  with 
himself  otherwise. 

IHnetgg.  —  Shakspeare. 
r)UR  remedies  oft  in  ourselves  do  lie, 

Which  we  ascribe  to  Heaven  :  the  fated  sky 
Gives  us  free  scope;  only,  doth  backward  pull 
Our  slow  designs,  when  we  ourselves  are  dull. 

IBltecp.  —Rowe. 
'THE  wise  and  active  conquer  difficulties, 

By  daring  to  attempt  them  :  sloth  and  folly 
Shiver  and  shrink  at  sight  of  toil  and  hazard, 
And  make  the  impossibility  they  fear. 

_  yZnglUXitS.— Shakspeare. 
Is  not  their  climate  foggy,  raw  and  dull? 
On  whom,  as  in  despite,  the  sun  looks  pale, 
Killing  their  fruit  with  frowns  ? 

lEnjOgmeitt.  —  St.  Evremond. 
TMPERFECT  Enjoyment  is  attended  with  regret;  a  surfeit  of 
pleasure   with   disgust.      There   is  a  certain    nick  of  time,   a 
certain   medium  to  be  observed,  with  which  few  people  are  ac- 
quainted. 

IHnjOgtttent.  —Horace. 
PJUSY  yourself  not  in  looking  forward    to    the    events    of  to- 
morrow; but  whatever  may  be  those  of  the  days  Providence 
may  yet  assign  you,  neglect  not  to  turn  them  to  advantage. 

iSnti)U0taiSm.  —  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
J7NLIST  the  interests  of  stern  Morality  and  religious  Enthusiasm 
in   the  cause  of  Political  Liberty,  as  in  the  time  of  the  old 
Puritans,  and  it  will  be  irresistible. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  127 

15ntf)U!5taSm.—  Kant. 
"pNTHUSIASM  is  always  connected  with  the  Senses,  whatever 
be  the  object  that  excites  it.  The  true  strength  of  Virtue  is 
serenity  of  mind,  combined  with  a  deliberate  and  steadfast  Deter- 
mination to  execute  her  laws.  That  is  the  healthful  condition  of 
the  Moral  Life ;  on  the  other  hand,  Enthusiasm,  even  when  excited 
by  representations  of  goodness,  is  a  brilliant  but  feverish  glow, 
which  leaves  only  exhaustion  and  languor  behind. 

lEntfjustasm.  —  Coiton. 

'THE  Romans  laid  down  their  liberties  at  the  feet  of  Nero,  who 
would  not  even  lend  them  to  Caesar;  and  we  have  lately  seen 
the  whole  French  Nation  rush  as  one  man  from  the  very  extremes 
of  Loyalty,  to  behead  the  mildest  Monarch  that  ever  ruled  them, 
and  conclude  a  sanguinary  career  of  plunder,  by  pardoning  and 
rewarding  a  Tyrant,  to  whom  their  blood  was  but  water,  and  their 
groans  but  wind;  thus  they  sacrificed  one  that  died  a  martyr  to 
his  clemency,  and  they  rewarded  another,  who  lived  to  boast  of 
his  murders. 

lEntf)Umasm\  —  Fitzosborne. 
T  LOOK  upon  Enthusiasm,  in  all  other  points  but  that  of  Religion, 
to  be  a  very  necessary  turn  of  mind;  as  indeed  it  is  a  vein 
which  nature  seems  to  have  marked  with  more  or  less  strength,  in 
the  tempers  of  most  men.  No  matter  what  the  object  is,  whether 
Business,  Pleasures,  or  the  Fine  Arts;  whoever  pursues  them  to 
any  purpose,  must  do  so  con  amore. 

ZEnfywiafim.—Shakspearc. 

I  have  seen 
The  dumb  men  throng  to  see  him,  and  the  blind 
To  hear  him  speak  :  The  matrons  flung  their  gloves, 
Ladies  and  maids  their  scarfs  and  handkerchiefs, 
Upon  him  as  he  pass'd  :  the  nobles  bended, 
As  to  Jove's  statue;  and  the  commons  made 
A  shower  and  thunder,  with  their  caps  and  shouts ; 
I  never  saw  the  like. 

lEttttttt.— Byr<m. 

"POR  Ennui  is  a  growth  of  English-root, 

Though  nameless  in  our  language  : — we  retort 
The  fact  for  words,  and  let  the  French  translate 
That  awful  Yawn  which  Sleep  cannot  abate. 

ISnbg.  —  Ovid. 

J^N VY  feeds  upon  the  living ;  after  death  it  ceases  ;  then  every 
man's  well-earned  Honours  defend  him  against  Calumny. 

M 


12S  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

3Hltbj)»  —  Spenser. 
A  ND  if  she  hapt  of  any  good  to  heare, 

That  had  to  any  happily  betid, 
Then  would  she  inly  fret,  and  grieve,  and  teare 
Her  flesh  for  felnesse,  which  she  inward  hid : 
But  if  she  heard  of  ill  that  any  did, 
Or  harme  that  any  had,  then  would  she  make 
Great  cheare,  like  one  unto  a  banquet  bid; 
And  in  another's  losse  great  pleasure  take, 
As  she  had  got  thereby,  and  gayned  a  great  stake. 

IHnb  p.—  Pope. 

'THERE  is  some  good  in  Public  Envy,  whereas  in  Private  there 
is  none;  for  Public  Envy  is  as  an  ostracism  that  eclipseth  men 
when  they  grow  too  great;  and  therefore  it  is  a  bridle  also  to  great 
ones  to  keep  within  bounds. 

ISnbg.  —  Shenstone. 
"THERE  is  nothing  more  universally  commended  than  a  fine  day; 
the  reason  is,  that  people  can  commend  it  without  Envy. 

15nbg.  —  Spenser. 
TTER  hands  were  foule  and  durtie,  never  washt 
In  all  her  life,  with  long  nayles  over  raught, 
Like  puttock's  clawes,  with  th'  one  of  which  she  scratcht 

Her  cursed  head,  although  it  itched  naught; 

The  other  held  a  snake  with  venime  fraught, 
On  which  she  fed  and  gnawed  hungrily, 

As  if  that  long  she  had  not  eaten  aught; 
That  round  about  her  jawes  one  might  descry 
The  bloudie  gore  and  poyson  dropping  loathsomely. 

ISnbj).  —  Lord  Clarendon. 
TF  Envy,  like  Anger,  did  not  burn  itself  in  its  own  fire,  and  con- 
sume and  destroy  those  persons  it  possesses,  before  it  can  destroy 
those  it  wishes  worst  to,  it  would  set  the  whole  world  on  fire,  and 
leave  the  most  excellent  persons  the  most  miserable. 

15nbj).  —  Colton. 
T'HE  benevolent  have  the  advantage  of  the  Envious,  even  in  this 
present  life;  for  the  Envious  is  tormented  not  only  by  all  the 
ill  that  befalls  himself,  but  by  all  the  good  that  happens  to  another; 
whereas  the  benevolent  man  is  the  better  prepared  to  bear  his  own 
calamities  unruffled,  from  the  complacency  and  serenity  he  has 
secured,  from  contemplating  the  prosperity  of  all  around  him. 

lEnbg.  —  Colton. 
THE  Hate  which  we  all  bear  with  the  most-  Christian  Patience,  is 
the  Hate  of  those  who  Envy  us. 


J\ 


rr~  =" 

OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  129 

l£nbg.  —  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
O.ENIUS  may  co-exist  with  Wildness,  Idleness,  Folly,  even  with 
Crime;  but  not  long,  believe  me,  with  Selfishness  and  the  in- 
dulgence of  an  Envious  Disposition.  Envy  is  xdxL6to$  xal  Sixouoraros 
£foj,  as  I  once  saw  it  expressed  somewhere  in  a  page  of  Stobaeus: 
it  dwarfs  and  withers  its  worshippers. 


iEtlbg,  —  La  Rocliefoucauld. 
eing  born  with  great 

iSnbj).  —  Clarendon. 


T'HE  truest  mark  of  being  born  with  great  qualities  is  being  born 
without  Envy. 


"PNVY  is  a  Weed  that  grows  in  all  soils  and  climates,  and  is  no 
less  luxuriant  in  the  Country  than  in  the  Court;  is  not  confined 
to  any  rank  of  men  or  extent  of  fortune,  but  rages  in  the  breasts 
of  all  degrees.  Alexander  was  not  prouder  than  Diogenes;  and  it 
may  be,  if  we  would  endeavour  to  surprise  it  in  its  most  gaudy 
dress  and  attire,  and  in  the  exercise  of  its  full  empire  and  tyranny, 
we  should  find  it  in  Schoolmasters  and  Scholars,  or  iu  some  Country 
Lady,  or  the  Knight  her  Husband;  all  which  ranks  of  people  more 
despise  their  neighbours,  than  all  the  degrees  of  honour  in  which 
courts  abound :  and  it  rages  as  much  in  a  sordid  affected  dress,  as 
in  all  the  silks  and  embroideries  which  the  excess  of  the  age  and 
the  folly  of  youth  delight  to  be  adorned  with.  Since  then,  it  keeps 
all  sorts  of  Company,  and  wriggles  itself  into  the  liking  of  the  most 
contrary  natures  and  dispositions,  and  yet  carries  so  much  poison 
and  venom  with  it,  that  it  alienates  the  affections  from  Heaven, 
and  raises  rebellion  against  God  himself,  it  is  worth  our  utmost 
care  to  watch  it  in  all  its  disguises  and  approaches,  that  we  may 
discover  it  in  its  first  entrance,  and  dislodge  it  before  it  procures  a 
shelter  or  retiring  place  to  lodge  and  conceal  itself. 

IHttbg.—  Colton. 
T?NVY  ought,  in  strict  truth,  to  have  no  place  whatever  allowed 
it  in  the  heart  of  man;  for  the  goods  of  this  present  world  are 
so  vile  and  low,  that  they  are  beneath  it;  and  those  of  the  future 
world  are  so  vast  and  exalted,  that  they  are  above  it. 

ISnbg.—  CoUon. 

rrO  diminish  Envy,  let  us  consider  not  what  others  possess,  but 
what  they  enjoy:  mere  Riches  may  be  the  gift  of  lucky  acci- 
dent or  blind  chance,  but  Happiness  must  be  the  result  of  prudent 
preference  and  rational  design;  the  highest  Happiness  then  can 
have  no  other  foundation  than  the  deepest  Wisdom  j  and  the 
happiest  fool  is  only  as  happy  as  he  knows  how  to  be. 

9 


130  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

T7MULATION  looks  out  for  merits,  that  she  may  exalt  herself  by 
a  victory;  Envy  spies  out  blemishes,  that  she  may  lower  another 
by  a  defeat. 

IBttbg,  —  Spenser. 

AND  next  to  him  malicious  Envy  rode 

Upon  a  ravenous  wolfe,  and  still  did  chaw 
Between  his  cankred  teeth  a  venemous  tode, 
That  all  the  poison  ran  about  his  jaw; 
But  inwardly  he  chawed  his  owne  maw 
At  neighbour's  welth  that  made  him  ever  sad; 

For  death  it  was  when  any  good  he  saw  ; 
And  wept,  that  cause  of  weeping  none  he  had; 
And  when  he  heard  of  harme  he  wexed  wondrous  glad. 

3H(JUalttg.  —  Langstaff. 
[EQUALITY  is  one  of  the  most  consummate  scoundrels  that 
ever  crept  from  the  brain  of  a  political  juggler — a  fellow  who 
thrusts  his  hand  into  the  pocket  of  honest  Industry  or  enterprising 
Talent,  and  squanders  their  hard-earned  profits  on  profligate  Idle- 
ness or  indolent  Stupidity. 

ISQUalttp*  —  SkaJcspeare. 
HPAKE  but  Degree  away,  untune  that  string, 

And,  hark,  what  discord  follows !  each  thing  meets 
In  mere  oppugnancy :  The  bounded  waters 
Should  lift  their  bosoms  higher  than  the  shores, 
And  make  a  sop  of  all  this  solid  globe : 
Strength  should  be  lord  of  Imbecility, 
And  the  rude  son  should  strike  his  father  dead : 
Force  should  be  Right. 

15palttg.  —  SkaJcspeare. 
A  RE  we  not  Brothers  ? 

So  man  and  man  should  be ; 
But  clay  and  clay  differs  in  dignity, 
Whose  dust  is  both  alike. 

IBQUalttJ).  —  SkaJcspeare. 
T'HE  King  is  but  a  Man,  as  I  am  :  the  violet  smells  to  him  as 
it  doth  to  me ;  the  element  shews  to  him  as  it  doth  to  me ;  all 
his  senses  have  but  human  conditions :  his  ceremonies  laid  by,  in 
his  nakedness  he  appears  but  a  Man ;  and  though  his  affections  are 
higher  mounted  than  curs,  yet,  when  they  stoop,  they  stoop  with 
the  like  win<r. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  131 

" 

iScjUalttl).  —  From  the  Latin. 
TF  all  men  were  on  an  Equality,  the  consequence  would  be  that  all 
must  perish ;  for  who  would  till  the  ground  ?  who  would  sow 
it?  who  would  plant?  who  would  press  wine  ? 

ISqualttJ).  —  Johnson. 
CO  far  is  it  from  being  true  that  men  are  naturally  equal,  that  no 
two  people  can  be  half  an  hour  together  but  one  shall  acquire 
an  evident  Superiority  over  the  other. 

ISqiUbOCattOtt.  —  Shakspeare. 

But  yet, — 
I  do  not  like  but  yet,  it  does  allay 
The  good  precedence;  fye  upon  but  yet : 
But  yet  is  as  a  gaoler  to  bring  forth 
Some  monstrous  malefactor. 

IHttOT.  —  Shakspeare. 
Q  HATEFUL  Error,  Melancholy's  child  ! 

Why  dost  thou  show  to  the  apt  thoughts  of  men 
The  things  that  are  not  ?     0  Error,  soon  conceived, 
Thou  never  com'st  unto  a  happy  birth, 
But  kill'st  the  mother  that  engender'd  thee. 

Ifc&XZtm.  —  From  the  French. 
Many  people  are  Esteemed  merely  because  they  are  not  known. 

IBtemttS.  —  Addison, 

JjYTERNITY,  thou  pleasing  dreadful  Thought! 

Thro'  what  variety  of  untried  beings, 
Thro'  what  new  scenes  and  changes  must  we  pass? 
The  wide,  the  unbounded  Prospect  lies  before  me ; 
But  shadows,  clouds,  and  darkness  rest  upon  it. 

ISteWttg.—  Dowe. 
J]TERNITY,  thou  awful  Gulph  of  Time, 

This  wide  creation  on  thy  surface  floats. 
Of  life — of  death — what  is,  or  what  shall  be, 
I  nothing  know.     The  world  is  all  a  dream, 
The  consciousness  of  something  that  exists, 
Yet  is  not  what  it  seems.     Then  what  am  I? 
Death  must  unfold  the  mystery  ! 

IStetttttg.  —  Cotton. 
jTE  that  will  often  put  Eternity  and  the  World  before  him,  and 
who  will  dare  to  look  steadfastly  at  both  of  them,  will  find 
that  the  more  often  he  contemplates  them,  the  former  will  grow 
greater  and  the  latter  less. 

m2 


132  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

lEteOtttS.—  Cotton. 

A  LAS  !  what  is  Man?  whether  he  be  deprived  of  that  light  which 
is  from  on  high,  or  whether  he  discard  it ;  a  frail  and  trem- 
bling creature,  standing  on  Time,  that  bleak  and  narrow  isthmus 
between  two  Eternities,  he  sees  nothing  but  impenetrable  Darkness 
on  the  one  hand,  and  Doubt,  Distrust,  and  Conjecture  still  more 
perplexing  on  the  other.  Most  gladly  would  he  take  an  observa- 
tion, as  to  whence  he  has  come,  or  whither  he  is  going.  Alas,  he 
has  not  the  means;  his  telescope  is  too  dim,  his  compass  too  waver- 
ing, his  plummet  too  short.  Nor  is  that  little  spot,  his  present 
state,  one  whit  more  intelligible,  since  it  may  prove  a  quicksand 
that  may  sink  in  a  moment  from  his  feet;  it  can  afford  him  no 
certain  reckoning,  as  to  that  immeasurable  ocean  that  he  may  have 
traversed,  or  that  still  more  formidable  one  that  he  must. 

IStentttJ),  —  Burnet 
T^THAT  is  this  Life  but  a  circulation  of  little  mean  actions  ?  We 
lie  down  and  rise  again,  dress  and  undress,  feed  and  wax 
hungry,  work  or  play,  and  are  weary,  and  then  we  lie  down  again, 
and  the  circle  returns.  We  spend  the  day  in  trifles,  and  when  the 
night  comes  we  throw  ourselves  into  the  bed  of  folly,  among  dreams, 
and  broken  thoughts,  and  wild  imaginations.  Our  reason  lies 
asleep  by  us,  and  we  are  for  the  time  as  arrant  brutes  as  those  that 
sleep  in  the  stalls,  or  in  the  field.  Are  not  the  capacities  of  man 
higher  than  these?  And  ought  not  his  ambition  and  expectations 
to  be  greater?  Let  us  be  adventurers  for  another  world.  It  is  at 
least  a  fair  and  noble  chance;  and  there  is  nothing  in  this  worth 
our  thoughts  or  our  passions.  If  we  should  be  disappointed,  we 
are  still  no  worse  than  the  rest  of  our  fellow-mortals';  and  if  we 
succeed  in  our  expectations,  we  are  eternally  happy. 

ISttqiiette,  —  Shakspedre. 

Unbidden  Guests 
Are  often  welcomest  when  they  are  gone. 

lEbaj&m.  —  Lavater. 

"INVASIONS  are  the  common  shelter  of  the  hard-hearted,  the  false, 
and  impotent,  when  called  upon  to  assist;  the  real  great  alone 
plan   instantaneous  help,  even  when   their  looks  or  words  presage 
difficulties. 

l^benmg.  —  Byron. 
TT  is  the  Hour  when  from  the  boughs 

The  Nightingale's  high  note  is  heard; 
It  is  the  Hour  when  lover's  vows 
Seem  sweet  in  every  whisper'd  word; 
And  gentle  winds,  and  waters  near, 
Make  music  to  the  lonely  ear. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  16? 


ATS- 


libenmg.—  Byron. 
MABIA!  blessed  be  the  Hour! 
The  time,  the  clime,  the  spot,  where  I  so  oft 
Have  felt  that  moment  in  its  fullest  power 

Sink  o'er  the  earth  so  beautiful  and  soft, 
While  swung  the  deep  bell  in  the  distant  tower, 

Or  the  faint  dying  day-hymn  stole  aloft, 
And  not  a  breath  crept  through  the  rosy  air, 
And  yet  the  forest  leaves  seem'd  stirr'd  with  prayer. 
Soft  Hour!  which  wakes  the  wish  and  melts  the  heart 

Of  those  who  sail  the  seas,  on  the  first  day 
When  they  from  their  sweet  friends  are  toru  apart; 

Or  fills  with  love  the  pilgrim  on  his  way 
As  the  far  bell  of  Vesper  makes  him  start, 

Seeming  to  weep  the  dying  day's  decay; 
Is  this  a  fancy  which  our  reason  scorns? 
Ah  !  surely  nothing  dies  but  something  mourns! 

l£uentng.  —  Montgomery. 
T  LOVE  thee,  Twilight!  for  thy  gleams  impart 
Their  dear,  their  dying  influence  to  my  heart, 
When  o'er  the  harp  of  thought  thy  passing  wind 
Awakens  all  the  music  of  the  mind, 
And  joy  and  sorrow,  as  the  spirit  burns, 
And  hope  and  memory  sweep  the  chords  by  turns. 

ISbenmg  Rt\DS.  —  Chesteijieid. 

The  Dews  of  the  Evening  most  carefully  shun; 
Those  tears  of  the  sky  for  the  loss  of  the  sun. 

ISbil.  —  Cotton. 
T  ADMIT  the  existence  of  Evil  to  its  full  extent,  and  I  also  admit 
my  own  Ignorance,  which  is  not  the  least  part  of  the  Evil  I 
deplore.  I  also  find  in  the  midst  of  all  this  Evil,  a  tolerably  fair 
proportion  of  Good.  I  can  discover  that  I  did  not  make  myself, 
and  also  that  the  Being  that  did  make  me,  has  shown  a  degree 
of  power  and  of  wisdom  far  beyond  my  powers  of  comprehension. 
I  can  also  see  so  much  Good  proceeding  from  his  system  even  here, 
that  I  am  inclined  to  love  him;  but  I  can  see  so  much  Evil,  that  I 
am  inclined  also  to  fear  him.  I  find  myself  a  compound  being, 
made  up  of  Body  and  Mind,  and  the  union  is  so  intimate,  that  the 
one  appears  to  perish  at  the  dissolution  of  the  other.  In  attempt- 
ing to  reconcile  this  last  Evil,  Death,  and  the  many  more  that  lead 
to  it,  with  the  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness  that  I  see  displayed  on 
many  other  occasions,  I  find  that  I  have  strong  aspirings  after  a 
state  that  may  survive  this  apparent  dissolution,  and  I  find  that  I 
have  this  feeling  in  common  with  all  the  rest  of  my  species;  I  find 


(34  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

also,  on  looking  within,  that  I  have  a  mind  capable  of  much  higher 
delight  than  matter  or  earth  can  afford.  On  looking  still  more 
closely  into  myself,  I  find  every  reason  to  believe  that  this  is  the 
first  state  of  existence  I  ever  enjoyed;  I  can  recollect  no  other, 
I  am  conscious  of  no  other.  Here  then  I  stand  as  upon  a  point 
acknowledged,  that  this  world  is  the  first  stage  of  existence  to  that 
compound  animal  Man,  and  that  it  is  to  him  at  least  the  first  link 
in  that  order  of  things  in  which  Mind  is  united  to  Matter. 

ISbtl,  —  Horace. 

Better  one  thorn  pluck'd  out  than  all  remain. 

IHbtl Chalmers. 

~DY  the  very  constitution  of  our  nature,  Moral  Evil  is  its  own 
curse. 

lEbtL— South. 
TTE  who  will  fight  the  Devil  at  his  own  weapon,  must  not  wonder 
if  he  finds  him  an  overmatch. 

lEbtl.—  Anon. 
AS  there  is  a  law  of  continuity,  whereby  in  ascending  we  can 
only  mount  step  by  step,  so  is  there  a  law  of  continuity, 
whereby  they  who  descend  must  sink,  and  that  too  with  an  ever 
increasing  velocity.  No  propagation  or  multiplication  is  more  rapid 
than  that  of  Evil,  unless  it  be  checked  j  no  growth  more  certain.  He 
who  is  in  for  a  Penny,  to  take  another  expression  belonging  to  the 
same  family,  if  he  does  not  resolutely  fly,  will  find  he  is  in  for  a  Pound. 

IsfctL  —  Horace. 

Fire,  for  a  short  time  neglected,  acquires  irresistible  force. 

ISblL  —  Menander. 
A  LL  animals  are  more  happy  than  Man.  Look,  for  instance,  on 
yonder  ass  :  all  allow  him  to  be  miserable  :  his  Evils,  however, 
are  not  brought  on  by  himself  and  his  own  fault;  he  feels  only 
those  which  Nature  has  inflicted.  We,  on  the  contrary,  besides 
our  necessary  Ills,  draw  upon  ourselves  a  multitude  of  others.  We 
are  melancholy  if  any  person  happen  to  sneeze ;  we  are  angry  if 
any  speak  reproachfully  of  us;  one  man  is  affrighted  with  an  un- 
lucky dream,  another  at  the  hooting  of  an  owl.  Our  Contentions, 
our  Anxieties,  our  Opinions,  our  Ambition,  our  Laws,  are  all  Evils, 
which  we  ourselves  have  superadded  to  Nature. 

iSbtl.  —  Shdkspeare. 
Ill  deeds  are  doubled  with  an  evil  word 

ISbtL  —  Colton. 
THERE  is  this  of  good  in  real  Evils, — they  deliver  us,  while  they 
last,  from  the  petty  despotism  of  all  that  were  imaginary. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  135 

Wbih  —  CoUon. 

"PYILS   in    the   journey  of  life   are   like   the  hills   which    alarm 
travellers  upon  their  road ;  they  both  appear  great  at  a  dis- 
tance, but  when  we  approach  them  we  find  that  they  are  far  less 
insurmountable  than  we  had  conceived. 

3SutL  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
THERE  are  no  circumstances,  however  unfortunate,  that  clever 
people  do  not  extract  some  advantage  from. 

ISxampU.  — Proctor. 

I  know  not  how  it  is ; 
But  a  foreboding  presses  on  my  heart, 
At  times,  until  I  sicken. — I  have  heard, 
And  from  men  learned,  that  before  the  touch 
(The  common,  coarser  touch)  of  Good,  or  111, — 
That  oftentimes  a  subtler  sense  informs 
Some  spirits  of  the  approach  of  "things  to  be." 

IZxamylt.  — Cicero. 

T>E  a  Pattern  to  others,  and  then  all  will  go  well  ;  for  as  a  whole 
city  is  infected  by  the  licentious  passions  and  vices  of  great 
men,  so  it  is  likewise  reformed  by  their  moderation. 

ISxample.  —  Juvenal 
"PXAMPLES  of  vicious  courses,  practised  in  a  domestic  circle, 
corrupt  more  readily  and  more  deeply,  when  we  behold  them 
in  persons  in  authority. 

ISiample.  —  Goldsmith. 
"PEOPLE  seldom  improve,  when  they  have  no  other  Model  but 
themselves  to  copy  after. 

ISxecllmg.  —  Coiton. 

TF  you  want  Enemies,  excel  others;  if  you  want  Friends,  let  others 
excel  you. 

ISlCeUtltg.  —  La  Bruyere. 
TTE  who  excels  in  his  art  so  as  to  carry  it  to  the  utmost  height 
of   perfection  of  which  it    is  capable,   may  be  said    in  some 
measure  to  go  beyond  it;  his  transcendent  productions  admit  of  no 
appellations. 

IZXttm.  —  Horace. 
TTIE  Body  oppressed  by  Excesses,  bears  down  the  Mind,  and  de- 
presses to  the  earth   any  portion  of  the  divine  Spirit  we  had 
been  endowed  with. 


136  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 

l^ITCSSi.  —  Tacitus. 
yiTELLIUS  possessed  all  that  Pliability  and  Liberality,  which, 
when  not  restrained  within  due  Bounds,  must  ever  turn  to  the 
ruin  of  their  possessor. 

IHlCeSS.  —  Shdkspeare. 
TTEOLENT  fires  soon  burn  out  themselves. 

Small  showers  last  long,  but  sudden  storms  are  short; 
He  tires  betimes,  that  spurs  too  fast  betimes ; 
With  eager  feeding,  food  doth  choke  the  feeder; 
Light  Vanity,  insatiate  Cormorant, 
Consuming  means,  soon  preys  upon  itself. 

ISlCCSS.—  Knox. 
HPHE  misfortune  is,  that  when  man  has  found  honey,  he  enters 
upon  the  feast  with  an  appetite  so  voracious,  that  he  usuallv 
destroys  his  own  delight  by  Excess  and  Satiety. 

IHlCeSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
"pVERY  Inordinate  Cup  is  unblessed,  and  the   ingredient  is  a 
devil. 

?irCCSS.  _  Colton. 
T'HE  Excesses  of  our  youth  are  drafts  upon  our  old  age,  payable 
with  interest,  about  thirty  years  after  date. 

IHlTttntUnt.  —  Goldsmith. 
T>UT  me,  not  destined  such  delights  to  share, 

My  prime  of  life  in  wandering  spent  and  care  : 
Impell'd,  with  steps  unceasing,  to  pursue 
Some  fleeting  good,  that  mocks  me  with  the  view; 
That,  like  the  circle  bounding  earth  and  skies, 
Allures  from  far,  yet,  as  I  follow,  flies; 
My  fortune  leads  to  traverse  realms  alone, 
And  find  no  spot  of  all  the  world  my  own. 

iBnttal  yiXtiUmtnt.  —  Montaigne. 
HPHE  beasts  show  us  plainly  how  much  our  diseases  are  owing 
to  the  Perturbations  of  our  Minds.  We  are  told  that  the  in- 
habitants of  Brazil  die  merely  of  old  age,  owing  to  the  serenity  and 
tranquillity  of  the  air  in  which  they  live;  but  I  ascribe  it  rather  to 
the  Serenity  and  Tranquillity  of  their  Souls,  which  are  free  from  all 
Passion,  Thought,  or  laborious  and  unpleasant  Employment.  As 
great  enmities  spring  from  great  friendships,  and  mortal  distempers 
from  vigorous  health,  so  do  the  most  surprising  and  the  wildest 
phrensies  from  the  high  and  lively  Agitations  of  our  Souls. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  137 

ISmCKfe.  —  Coivper. 
HPHE  Sedentary  stretch  their  lazy  length 

When  custom  bids,  but  no  refreshment  find, — 
For  none  they  need :  the  languid  eye,  the  cheek 
Deserted  of  its  bloom,  the  flaccid,  shrunk, 
And  wither' d  muscle,  and  the  vapid  soul, 
Reproach  their  owner  with  that  Love  of  Rest 
To  which  he  forfeits  e'en  the  Rest  he  loves. 

ISipeCtattCm.  —  Shakspcare. 

How  slow, 
This  old  moon  wanes :  she  lingers  my  desires, 
Like  to  a  step-dame,  or  a  dowager, 
Long  withering  out  a  young  man's  revenue. 

ISxpeCtattOn.  —  Mrs.  Tighe. 
OH  !  how  Impatience  gains  upon  the  soul 

When  the  long-promised  hour  of  joy  draws  near! 
How  slow  the  tardy  moments  seem  to  roll ! 

What  spectres  rise  of  inconsistent  fear  ! 

To  the  fond  doubting  heart  its  hopes  appear 
Too  brightly  fair,  too  sweet  to  realize : 

All  seem  but  day-dreams  of  delight  too  dear  ! 
Strange  hopes  and  fears  in  painful  contest  rise, 
While  the  scarce-trusted  bliss  seems  but  to  cheat  the  eyes. 

ySxytCtatiQn.—Shakspeare. 
Oft  Expectation  fails,  and  most  oft  there 
Where  most  it  promises  :  and  oft  it  hits 
Where  Hope  is  coldest,  and  Despair  most  sits. 

^Expectations.  —Martial. 
VOU  give  me  nothing  during  your  life,  but  you  promise  to  pro- 
vide for  me  at  your  death.     If  you  are  not  a  fool,  you  know 
what  I  wish  for. 

lExpeCtattun.  —  Shakspeare. 
So  tedious  is  this  day, 
As  is  the  night  before  some  festival 
To  an  impatient  child,  that  hath  new  robes, 
And  may  not  wear  them. 

ISxpettge.  —Franklin. 
VyrilAT  maintains  one  vice  would  bring  up  two  children.  You 
may  think,  perhaps,  that  a  little  tea,  or  a  little  punch  now 
and  then,  diet  a  little  more  costly,  clothes  a  little  finer,  and  a  little 
entertainment  now  and  then,  can  be  no  great  matter;  but  remem- 
ber, Many  a  little  makes  a  mickle.     Beware  of  little  expenses.     A 


138  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

small  leak  will  sink  a  great  ship,  as  Poor  llicbard  says;  and  again, 
Who  dainties  love,  shall  beggars  prove;  and  moreover,  Fools  make 
feasts,  and  wise  men  eat  them. 

ISiperietTCe.  —  Sir  P.  Sidney. 
All  is  but  L:p-wisdom  which  wants  Experience. 

IBxpettence.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTE  cannot  be  a  perfect  man, 

Not  being  tried,  and  tutor'd  in  the  world : 
Experience  is  by  Industry  achieved, 
And  perfected  by  the  swift  course  of  Time. 

iBxperieitCe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Our  own  precedent  passions  do  instruct  us 
What  levity's  in  youth. 

ISxperiettCe*  —  Terence. 
"^"0  man  was  ever  endowed  with  a  judgment  so  correct  and  judi- 
cious, in  regulating  his  life,  but  that  Circumstances,  Time,  and 
Experience,  would  teach  him  something  new,  and  apprize  him  that 
of  those  things  with  which  he  thought  himself  the  best  acquainted, 
he  knew  uothing;  and  that  those  ideas,  which  in  theory  appeared 
the  most  advantageous,  were  found,  when  brought  into  practice,  to 
be  altogether  inapplicable. 

ISiperiettCe Coleridge. 

TO  most  men  Experience  is  like  the  stern-lights  of  a  ship,  which 
illumine  only  the  track  it  has  passed. 

^Experience.  —  Shakspeare. 

To  wilful  men, 
The  injuries  that  they  themselves  procure, 
Must  be  their  schoolmasters. 

^Experience.  —  Green. 
Experience  join'd  with  Common  Sense, 
To  mortals  is  a  Providence. 

^Experience.  —  Byron. 
^DVERSITY  is  the  first  path  to  Truth. 

He  who  hath  proved  war,  storm,  or  woman's  rage, 
Whether  his  winters  be  eighteen  or  eighty, 
Hath  won  the  Experience  which  is  deem'd  so  weighty. 

iEXteWaliS.  —  Johnson. 
TN  civilized  society,  External  Advantages  make  us  more  respected. 
A  man  with  a  good  coat  upon  his  back  meets  with  a  better  re- 
ception than  he  who  has  a  bad  one.  You  may  analyze  this  and 
say,  what  is  there  in  it?  But  that  will  avail  you  nothing,  for  it 
is  a  part  of  a  general  system.     Pound  St.  Paul's  church  into  atoms, 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  139 

and  consider  any  single  atom  ;  it  is,  to  be  sure,  good  for  nothing : 
but  put  all  these  atoms  together,  and  you  have  St.  Paul's  church.  So 
it  is  with  human  felicity,  which  is  made  up  of  many  ingredients, 
each  of  which  may  be  shown  to  be  very  insignificant. 

ISxttabagance.  —  Pope. 

~POR  what  has  Virro  painted,  built,  and  planted? 

Only  to  show  how  many  tastes  he  wanted. 
What  brought  Sir  Visto's  ill-got  wealth  to  waste  ? 
Some  demon  whisper'd,  Visto  has  a  taste  ! 

ISxtrabagance.—  Young. 

The  man  who  builds,  and  wants  wherewith  to  pay, 
Provides  a  home  from  which  to  run  away. 

CfjeiEge.  —  Addison. 
A  BEAUTIFUL  Eye  makes  Silence  eloquent,  a  kind  Eye  makes 
Contradiction  an  assent,  an  enraged  Eye  makes  Beauty  de- 
formed. This  little  Member  gives  life  to  every  other  part  about 
us ;  and  I  believe  the  story  of  Argus  implies  no  more,  than  that 
the  Eye  is  in  every  part ;  that  is  to  say,  every  other  part  would  be 
mutilated  were  not  its  force  represented  more  by  the  Eye  than  even 
by  itself. 

Cije  ^t.— Moore. 
'THOSE  Eyes,  whose  light  seem'd  rather  given 

To  be  adored  than  to  adore — 
Such  Eyes,  as  may  have  look'd  from  Heaven, 
But  ne'er  were  raised  to  it  before  ! 

jFattl).—  Anon. 
J7NTIBENESS,  illimitableness  is  indispensable  to  Faith.  What 
we  believe,  we  must  believe  wholly  and  without  reserve ;  where- 
fore the  only  perfect  and  satisfying  object  of  Faith  is  God.  A  Faith 
that  sets  bounds  to  itself,  that  will  believe  so  much  and  no  more, 
that  will  trust  thus  far  and  no  farther,  is  none. 

JjPattf) Anon. 

T'HE  power  of  Faith  will  often  shine  forth  the  most,  where  the 
character  is  naturally  weak.     There  is  less  to  intercept  and  in- 
terfere with  its  workings. 

jFatti). — Addison. 
rFHE  natural  homage  which  such  a  creature  as  Man  bears  to  an 
infinitely  wise  and  good  God,  is  a  firm  Reliance  on  him  for  the 
blessings  and  conveniences  of  life,  and  an  habitual  Trust  in  him  for 
deliverance  out  of  all  such  dangers  and  difficulties  as  may  befall  us. 
The  man  who  always  lives  in  this  disposition  of  mind,  when  he 
reflects  upon  his  own  weakness  and  imperfection,  comforts  himself 

N 


140  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 


with  the  contemplation  of  those  Divine  attributes  which  are  em- 
ployed for  his  safety  and  welfare.  He  finds  his  want  of  foresight 
made  up  by  the  omniscience  of  him  who  is  his  support.  He  is  now 
sensible  of  his  own  want  of  strength  when  he  knows  that  his  Helper 
is  Almighty.  In  short,  the  person  who  has  a  firm  Trust  on  the 
Supreme  Being,  is  powerful  in  his  power,  wise  by  his  wisdom, 
happy  by  his  happiness. 

ILOSS  Of  jFaify.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

Pray  can  I  not, 
Though  inclination  be  as  sharp  as  will; 
My  stronger  guilt  defeats  my  strong  intent; 
And,  like  a  man  to  double  business  bound, 
I  stand  in  pause  where  I  shall  first  begin, 
And  both  neglect. 

dFattf)  anti  ttMnxks.  —  Coiton. 

\\TE  should  act  with  as  much  energy,  as  those  who  expect  every 
thing  from  themselves;  and  we  should  pray  with  as  much 
earnestness  as  those  who  expect  every  thing  from  God. 

jFrtentis  df  ailing  oft.  —  s/mkspeare. 

'THEY  answer,  in  a  joint  and  corporate  voice, 

That  now  they  are  at  Fall,  want  treasure,  cannot 
Do  what  they  would;  are  sorry — you  are  honourable, — 
But  yet  they  could  have  wish'd — they  know  not — but 
Something  hath  been  amiss' d — a  noble  nature 
May  catch  a  wrench — would  all  were  well — 'tis  pity — 
And  so,  intending  other  serious  matters, 
After  distasteful  looks,  and  these  hard  fractions, 
With  certain  half-caps,  and  cold-moving  nods, 
They  froze  me  into  silence. 

.jFatefwofc,— Cotton. 

FALSEHOOD  is  never  so  successful  as  when  she  baits  her  hook 
with  Truth,  and  that  no  opinions  so  fatally  mislead  us,  as  those 
that  are  not  wholly  wrong,  as  no  watches  so  effectually  deceive  the 
wearer,  as  those  that  are  sometimes  right. 

jFalSe  icCCUritj).  —  S/iakspeare. 

We  hear  this  fearful  tempest  sing, 
Yet  seek  no  shelter  to  avoid  the  storm; 
We  see  the  wind  sit  sore  upon  our  sails, 
And  yet  we  strike  not,  but  securely  perish. 

jfamt.  —  Mallet 
I  courted  Fame  but  as  a  spur  to  brave 
And  honest  deeds;  and  who  despises  Fame, 
Will  soon  renounce  the  virtues  that  deserve  it. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  141 

$  amc.  —  Cotton. 

f\Y  present  Fame  think  little  and  of  future  less;  the  Praises  that 
we  receive  after  we  are  buried,  like  the  posies  that  are  strewed 
over  our  grave,  may  be  gratifying  to  the  living,  but  they  are  no- 
thing to  the  dead ;  the  dead  are  gone,  either  to  a  place  where  they 
hear  them  not,  or  where,  if  they  do,  they  will  despise  them. 

jFame.  —  Sterne. 
'THE  way  to  Fame  is  like  the  way  to  Heaven — through  much 
Tribulation. 

jFawe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Glory  grows  guilty  of  detested  crimes; 
"When,  for  Fame's  sake,  for  Praise,  an  outward  part, 
We  bend  to  that  the  working  of  the  heart. 

Jfame.  —  Shakspeare. 
TF  a  man  do  not  erect  in  this  age  his  own  tomb  ere  he  dies,  he 
shall  live  no  longer  in  monument  than  the  bell  rings,  and  the 
widow  weeps. 

jfamt,  —  Shakspeare. 
Death  makes  no  conquest  of  this  conqueror; 
For  now  he  lives  in  Fame,  though  not  in  life. 

,-fFcime.  —  Shakspeare. 
The  Evil,  that  men  do,  lives  after  them; 
The  Good  is  oft  interred  with  their  bones. 

,-ffamc. —  Byron, 

fanes,  thy  temple,  to  the  surface  bow, 
Commingling  slowly  with  heroic  earth, 
Broke  by  the  share  of  every  rustic  plough : 
So  perish  Monuments  of  mortal  Birth, 
To  perish  all  in  turn,  save  well-recorded  Worth. 

JFamt.— Byron. 

HAT  of  them  is  left,  to  tell 
Where  they  lie,  and  how  they  fell? 
Not  a  stone  on  their  turf,  nor  a  bone  in  their  graves; 
But  they  live  in  the  Verse  that  immortally  saves. 

jpatlte.— Moore. 

T^7"HO,  that  surveys  this  span  of  earth  we  press, 
This  speck  of  life  in  time's  great  wilderness, 
This  narrow  isthmus  'twixt  two  boundless  seas, 
The  past,  the  future,  two  eternities! — 
Would  sully  the  bright  spot  or  leave  it  bare, 
When  he  might  build  him  a  proud  Temple  there, 
A  Name,  that  long  shall  hallow  all  its  space, 
And  be  each  purer  soul's  high  rcstiug-place ! 


»JHY 


w 


142  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

df  ante.  —  Shdkipeare. 
Men's  Evil  Manners  live  in  brass  :  their  Virtues 
We  write  in  water. 

jf&mz.  —  Shenstojie. 
AH  me !  full  sorely  is  my  heart  forlorn 

To  think  how  modest  Worth  neglected  lies, 
While  partial  Fame  doth  with  her  blasts  adorn 
Such  deeds  alone,  as  Pride  and  Pomp  disguise, 
Deeds  of  ill  sort,  and  mischievous  emprise. 

Jatne, — Byron. 
"TIS  as  a  snowball  which  derives  assistance 

From  every  flake,  and  yet  rolls  on  the  same, 
Even  till  an  iceberg  it  may  chance  to  grow ; 
But  after  all  'tis  nothing  but  cold  snow. 

JPame.  —  Young. 
f\F  boasting  more  than  of  a  bomb  afraid, 
A  soldier  should  be  modest  as  a  maid  : 
Fame  is  a  bubble  the  reserved  enjoy; 
Who  strive  to  grasp  it,  as  they  touch,  destroy ; 
'Tis  the  w jrld's  debt  to  deeds  of  high  degree; 
But  if  \    a  pay  yourself,  the  world  is  free. 

J^ame.  —  Young. 
Fa  vie  is  a  public  mistress,  none  enjoys, 
Hat,  more  or  less,  his  rival's  peace  destroys. 

dFame.  —  Pope. 

TyHAT'S  Fame  ?  a  fancied  life  in  others'  breath, 

A  thing  beyond  us,  even  before  our  death. 
Just  what  you  hear,  you  have  ;  and  what's  unknown, 
The  same,  my  lord,  if  Tully's,  or  your  own. 
All  that  we  feel  of  it  begins  and  ends 
In  the  small  circle  of  our  foes  or  friends; 
To  all  beside  as  much  an  empty  shade 
An  Eugene  living,  as  a  Caesar  dead. 

jf  am.  — Milton. 
"UAME  is  the  spur  that  the  clear  sp'rit  doth  raise 

(That  last  infirmity  of  noble  mind) 
To  scorn  delights,  and  live  laborious  days; 
But  the  fair  guerdon  when  we  hope  to  find, 
And  think  to  burst  out  into  sudden  blaze, 
Comes  the  blind  Fury  with  th'  abhorr'd  shears, 
And  slits  the  thin-spun  life. 


OR,     THINGS    NEW  AND    OLD.  143 

Uttcrati?  jFamr.  —  Voiiaire. 

HPHE  path  to  Literary  Fame  is  more  difficult  than  that  which 
leads  to  Fortune.  If  you  are  so  unfortunate  as  not  to  soar 
above  mediocrity,  remorse  is  your  portion;  if  you  succeed  in  your 
object,  a  host  of  enemies  spring  up  around  you :  thus  you  find 
yourself  on  the  brink  of  an  abyss  between  Contempt  and  Hatred. 

££XorttJlj)  jfame.  —  JoJni  Qui, icy  Adams. 
T7AME,  that  common  crier,  whose  existence  is  only  known  by  the 
assemblage  of  multitudes;  that  pander  of  wealth  and  greatness, 
so  eager  to  haunt  the  palaces  of  fortune,  and  so  fastidious  to  the 
houseless  dignity  of  virtue ;  that  parasite  of  pride,  ever  scornful  to 
meekness,  and  ever  obsequious  to  insolent  power;  that  heedless 
trumpeter,  whose  ears  are  deaf  to  modest  merit,  and  whose  eyes  are 
blind  to  bloodless,  distant  excellence. 

dFaitCg.  —  Shakspeare. 
All  impediments  in  Fancy's  course 
Are  motives  of  more  Fancy. 

.jFacetoell  atttJ  WLtltOmt.  —  Shakspeare. 
TIME  is  like  a  fashionable  host, 

That  slightly  shakes  his  parting  guest  by  the  hand ; 
And  with  his  arms  out-stretch'd,  as  he  would  fly, 
Grasps  in  the  comer  ;  Welcome  ever  smiles, 
And  Farewell  goes  out  sighing. 

jFollotorrS  Of  Jfasijton.  — Ji/i«?a'  Anglic. 
An  empty,  thoughtless  tribe. 

jFaSffjUm.—  GreviOe. 

YVE  laugh  heartily  to  see  a  whole  flock  of  sheep  jump  because 
one  did  so  :  might  not  one  imagine  that  superior  beings  do 
the  same  by  us,  and  for  exactly  the  same  reason. 

dfasfjtOTt.  —  Byron. 
TN  the  Great  World — which  being  interpreted 

Meaneth  the  West  end  of  a  city, 
And  about  twice  two  thousand  people  bred 

By  no  means  to  be  very  wise  or  witty, 
But  to  sit  up  while  others  lie  in  bed, 

And  look  down  on  the  Universe  with  pity. 

JfaBf)i(in.— Byron. 
The  Company  is  "  mixed,"  (the  phrase  I  quote  is 
As  much  as  saying,  they're  below  your  notice.) 

jFagjUm.  —  ChurchiU. 

Fashion,  a  word  which  knaves  and  fools  may  use 
Their  knavery  and  folly  to  excuse. 


144  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH, 

jFaSljtOlt.  —  Shdkspeare. 
Where  doth  the  World  thrust  forth  a  Vanity, 
(So  it  be  knew,  there's  no  respect  how  vile,) 
That  is  not  quickly  buzz'd  into  the  ears  ? 

jFate.  —  Horace. 
T^TITH  equal  foot,  rich  friend,  impartial  Fate, 
Knocks  at  the  cottage  and  the  palace  gate : 
Life's  span  forbids  thee  to  extend  thy  cares, 
And  stretch  thy  hopes,  beyond  thy  destined  years: 
Night  soon  will  seize,  and  you  must  quickly  go 
To  storied  ghosts,  and  Pluto's  house  below. 

^Faults.  —  Shdkspeare. 
TF  little  Faults,  proceeding  on  Distemper, 

Shall  not  be  wink'd  at,  how  shall  we  stretch  our  eye, 
When  Capital  Crimes,  chew'd,  swallow'd,  and  digested, 
Appear  before  us? 

dFabmir*  —  LaBruyere. 

"PAVOUR  exalts  a  man  above  his  equals,  but  his  dismissal  from 
that  Favour  places  him  below  them. 

dfabOUtS.  —  Publius  Syrus. 
TT  is  conferring  a  kindness,  to  deny  at  once  a  Favour  which  you 
intend  to  refuse. 

dFate  Of  JfBStoWtiXt&.  —  Shakspeare. 
/^J-EEAT  Princes'  Favourites  their  fair  leaves  spread, 

But  as  the  marigold,  at  the  sun's  eye; 
And  in  themselves  their  pride  lies  buried, 

For  at  a  frown  tney  in  their  glory  die. 
The  painful  warrior  famoused  for  fight, 
After  a  thousand  victories  once  foil'd, 
Is  from  the  Book  of  Honour  razed  quite, 
And  all  the  rest  forgot  for  which  he  toil'd. 

df  eai.  —  Shaftesbury. 
'THE  passion  of  Fear  (as  a  modern  philosopher  informs  me)  de- 
termines the  spirits  to  the  muscles  of  the  knees,  which  are 
instantly  ready  to  perform  their  motion,  by  taking  up  the  legs  with 
incomparable  celerity,  in  order  to  remove  the  body  out  of  harm's 
way. 

Jfear.  —  Montaigne. 
'THE  thing  in  the  world  I  am  most  afraid  of  is  Fear;  and  with 
good  reason,  that  Passion  alone,  in  the  trouble  of  it,  exceeding 
all  other  accidents. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  145 


jFcai".  —  Shakspeare. 
I  find  the  people  strangely  fantasied ; 
Possess' d  with  Rumours,  full  of  idle  Dreams; 
Not  knowing  what  they  fear,  but  full  of  Fear. 

$Z8X.  —  Shalcspeare. 

But  that  I  am  forbid 
To  tell  the  secrets  of  my  prison-house, 
I  could  a  tale  unfold,  whose  lightest  word 
Would  harrow  up  thy  soul;  freeze  thy  young  blood; 
Make  thy  two  eyes,  like  stars,  start  from  their  spheres; 
Thy  knotted  and  combined  locks  to  part, 
And  each  particular  hair  to  stand  on  end, 
Like  quills  upon  the  fretful  porcupine. 

jft  ar.  —  Shakspeare. 
HTHIS  man's  brow,  like  to  a  title-leaf, 

Foretells  the  nature  of  a  tragic  volume : 
So  looks  the  strond,  whereon  the  imperious  flood 
Hath  left  a  witness'd  usurpation. 
Thou  trerablest;  and  the  Whiteness  in  thy  Cheek 
Is  apter  than  thy  tongue  to  tell  thy  errand. 
Even  such  a  man,  so  faint,  so  spiritless, 
So  dull,  so  dead  in  look,  so  wo-begone, 
Drew  Priam's  curtain  in  the  dead  of  night, 
And  would  have  told  him,  half  his  Troy  was  burn'd. 

iGf)Clj3tlj}  jftZX.  — Shakspeare. 

What  man  dare,  I  dare : 
Approach  thou  like  the  rugged  Russian  bear, 
The  arm'd  Rhinoceros,  or  the  Hyrcan  tiger, 
Take  any  shape  but  that,  and  my  firm  nerves 
Shall  never  tremble :  or,  be  alive  again, 
And  dare  me  to  the  desert  with  thy  sword; 
If  trembling  I  inhibit  thee,  protest  me 
The  baby  of  a  girl.     Hence,  horrible  shadow ! 
Unreal  Mockery,  hence ! 

Hnmanlg  dFear.  —  miton. 

Be  not  over  exquisite 
To  cast  the  fashion  of  uncertain  evils: 
For  grant  they  be  so,  while  they  rest  unknown, 
What  need  a  man  forestall  his  date  of  grief, 
And  run  to  meet  what  he  would  most  avoid? 

jFcaSttng.  —  Peter  Pindar. 
The  turnpike  road  to  people's  hearts,  I  find, 
Lies  through  their  Mouths,  or  I  mistake  mankind 


146  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

dFeaSttng.  —  Clarendon. 
TT  is  not  the  quantity  of  the  Meat,  but  the  cheerfulness  of  the 
guests,  which  makes  the  Feast;  at  the  Feast  of  the  Centaurs, 
they  ate  with  one  hand,  and  had  their  drawn  swords  in  the  other; 
where  there  is  no  peace,  there  can  be  no  Feast. 

pasting.  —  Peter  Pindar. 
yEN'SON'S  a  Caesar  in  the  fiercest  fray; 

Turtle  !  an  Alexander  in  its  way  : 
And  then,  in  quarrels  of  a  slighter  nature, 
Mutton's  a  most  successful  mediator  ! 
So  much  superior  is  the  stomach's  smart 
To  all  the  vaunted  horrors  of  the  heart. 
E'en  Love,  who  often  triumphs  in  his  grief, 
Hath  ceased  to  feed  on  sighs,  to  pant  on  beef. 

dFeaStmg.  —  Peter  Pindar. 
T  OWN  that  nothing  like  Good  Cheer  succeeds — 

A  man's  a  God  whose  hogshead  freely  bleeds : 
Champagne  can  consecrate  the  damned'st  evil ; 
A  hungry  Parasite  adores  a  Devil. 

JfzmtiXi^— Byron. 
"PUT  'twas  a  public  Feast,  and  public  day — 

Quite  full,  right  dull,  guests  hot,  and  Dishes  cold, 
Great  plenty,  much  formality,  small  Cheer, 
And  everybody  out  of  their  own  sphere. 

$ZM\iXl%.  — Byron. 

Op  all  appeals, — although 

I  grant  the  power  of  pathos,  and  of  gold, 

Of  beauty,  flattery,  threats,  a  shilling, — no 

Method's  more  sure  at  moments  to  take  hold 
Of  the  best  feelings  of  mankind,  which  grow 

More  tender,  as  we  every  day  behold, 
Than  that  all-softening,  overpow'ring  knell, 
The  tocsin  of  the  soul — the  Dinner  Bell. 

dfeeitltfi.— BicJUer. 

'THE  last,  best  fruit  which  comes  to  late  perfection,  even  in  the 
kindliest  soul,  is,  Tenderness  toward  the  hard,  Forbearance  to- 
ward the  unforbearing,  Warmth  of  Heart  toward  the  cold,  Philan- 
thropy toward  the  misanthropic. 

jFeeltttg.  —  Sterne. 
A    WORD — a  Look,  which  at  one  time  would  make  no  impression 
— at  another  time  wounds  the  Heart;  and  like  a  shaft  flying 
with  the  wind,  pierces  deep,  which,  with  its  own  n?tural  force, 
would  scarce  have  reached  the  object  aimed  at. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  147 

dFeeltng.  —  Ooiton. 

TT  is  far  more  easy  not  to  feel,  than  always  to  feel  rightly,  and  not 
to  act,  than  always  to  act  well.  For  he  that  is  determined  to 
admire  only  that  which  is  beautiful,  imposes  a  much  harder  task 
upon  himself,  than  ho  that  being  determined  not  to  see  that  which 
is  the  contrary,  effects  it  by  simply  shutting  his  eyes. 

deling.  —  Shakspeare. 

0  Hero  !  what  a  Hero  had'st  thou  been, 
If  half  thy  outward  graces  had  been  placed 
About  thy  thoughts,  and  counsels  of  thy  Heart. 

dueling.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
T^THEN  the  Heart  is  still  agitated  by  the  remains  of  a  Passion, 
we  are  more  ready  to  receive  a  new  one  than  when  we  are 
entirely  cured. 

jfulinQ.  —  Bi/ron. 
J  WISH'D  but  for  a  single  Tear, 

As  something  welcome,  new,  and  dear ; 

1  wish/d  it  then,  I  wish  it  still, 
Despair  is  stronger  than  my  will. 

dueling.  —  Byron. 

In  a  gushing  stream 
The  Tears  rush'd  forth  from  her  unclouded  Brain 
Like  mountain  mists,  at  length  dissolved  in  rain. 

dFeelmg.  _  Shakspeare. 
\TTHY  does  my  Blood  thus  muster  to  my  Heart, 

Making  both  that  unable  for  itself, 
And  dispossessing  all  my  other  parts 
Of  necessary  fitness  ? 

So  play  the  foolish  throngs  with  one  that  swoons ; 
Come  all  to  help  hi  in,  and  so  stop  the  air 
By  which  he  should  revive. 

jfc  eltng.  —  Shakspeare. 
How  sometimes  Nature  will  betray  its  Folly, 
Its  Tenderness,  and  make  itself  a  pistime 
To  harder  bosoms ! 

dFeelmg  anfc  TtiizMm.—Ziegier. 

rrHE  Heart  of  Man  is  older  than  his  He?d.     The  ftrsf-born  is 
sensitive,  but  blind — his  younger  brother  has  a  cold,  but  all- 
comprehensive  glance.     The  blind  must  consent  to  be  led  by  tho 
clear-sighted,  if  he  would  avoid  falling. 

££tant  of  jFtclinq.— Juvenal 

Who  can  all  sense  of  others'  ills  escape, 
Is  but  a  brute,  at  best,  in  human  shape. 


148  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

jfecltng  anti  Keason.—  Anon. 

QOME  people  carry  their  Hearts  in  their  Heads ;  very  many  carry 
their  Heads  in  their  Hearts.     The  difficulty  is  to  keep  them 
apart,  and  yet  both  actively  working  together. 

jFtCfeleneSlS.  —  Shakspeare. 
YITOULD  I,  being  but  a  moonish  youth,  grieve,  be  effeminate, 
changeable,  longing,  and  liking;  proud,  fantastical,  apish, 
shallow,  inconstant,  full  of  tears,  full  of  smiles ;  for  every  passion 
something,  and  for  no  passion  truly  any  thing,  as  boys  and  women 
are  for  the  most  part  cattle  of  this  colour;  would  now  like  him, 
now  loath  him;  then  entertain  him,  then  forswear  him;  now  weep 
for  him,  then  spit  at  him. 

.jFffcJClttjt).  —  Shakspeare. 
He  that  can  endure 
To  follow  with  Allegiance  a  fallen  lord, 
Does  conquer  him  that  did  his  master  conquer, 
And  earns  a  place  i'  the  story. 

dFtMttp.  —  Shakspeare. 

I'll  yet  follow 
The  wounded  chance  of  Antony,  though  my  reason 
Sits  in  the  wind  against  me. 

jFttielttg.  —  Shakspeare. 
But  now 'tis  odds  beyond  arithmetic; 
And  Manhood  is  called  Foolery,  when  it  stands 
Against  a  falling  fabric. 

jf  f&elttg.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTIS  Words  are  bonds,  his  Oaths  are  Oracles; 

His  Love  sincere,  his  Thoughts  immaculate, 
His  Tears,  pure  messengers  sent  from  his  Heart; 
His  Heart  as  far  from  Fraud  as  heaven  from  earth. 

dFtMtt£.  —  Shakspeare. 
'JHOUGH  all  the  world  should  crack  their  Duty 

And  throw  it  from  their  soul ;  though  perils  did 
Abound,  as  thick  as  thought  could  make  them,  and 
Appear  in  forms  more  horrid ;  yet  my  duty, 
As  doth  a  rock  against  the  chiding  flood, 
Should  the  approach  of  the  wild  river  break, 
And  stand  unshaken  yours 

jFiMttJ}-  —  Shakspeare. 
I  aim  constant  as  the  Northern  Star, 
Of  whose  true-fix'd,  and  resting  Quality, 
There  is  no  fellow  in  the  firmament. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND   OLD.  149 

^FtMttg.  —  Shakspeare. 
T  DURST,  my  lord,  to  wager  she  is  honest, 

Lay  down  my  soul  at  stake  :  if  you  think  other, 
Remove  your  thought;  it  doth  abuse  your  bosom. 
If  any  wretch  hath  put  this  in  your  head, 
Let  Heaven  requite  it  with  the  serpent's  curse  ! 
For,  if  she  be  not  honest,  chaste,  and  true, 
There's  no  man  happy  :  the  purest  of  their  wives 
Is  foul  as  slander. 

jFltldttj).  —  Shakspeare. 

0  Heaven  !  were  Man 

But  constant,  he  were  perfect :  that  one  Error 
Fills  him  with  faults. 

dFttielttJ).  —Shakspeare. 
TTE  which  hath  no  stomach  to  this  fight, 

Let  him  depart,  his  passport  shall  be  made, 
And  crowns  for  convoy  put  into  his  purse : 
We  would  not  die  in  that  man's  company, 
That  fears  his  fellowship  to  die  with  us. 

1  speak  not  this,  as  doubting  any  here  : 
For,  did  I  but  suspect  a  fearful  man, 

He  should  have  leave  to  go  away  betimes ; 
Lest,  in  our  need,  he  might  infect  another, 
And  make  hi  in  of  like  spirit  to  himself. 
If  any  such  be  here,  as  God  forbid  ! 
Let  him  depart,  before  we  need  his  help. 

dFfijelttj).  —  Shakspeare. 
TF  to  preserve  this  vessel  for  my  lord, 

From  any  other  foul  unlawful  touch, 
Be — not  to  be  a  strumpet,  I  am  none. 
False  to  his  bed !  What  is  it  to  be  false  ? 
To  lie  in  watch  there,  and  to  think  on  him  ? 
To  weep  'twixt  clock  and  clock  ?  if  sleep  charge  nature, 
To  break  it  with  a  fearful  dream  of  him, 
And  cry  myself  awake  ?  that's  false  to  his  bed, 
Is  it? 

Unkindness  may  do  much ; 
And  his  unkindness  may  defeat  my  life, 
But  never  taint  my  love. 

^Ftutlttg.—  Moore. 
fX)ME  rest  in  this  bosom,  my  own  stricken  deer  ! 

Tho'  the  herd  hath  fled  from  thee,  thy  home  is  still  here ; 
Here  still  is  the  smile  that  no  cloud  can  o'ercast, 
And  the  Heart  and  the  Hand  all  thy  own  to  the  Last ! 


150  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

jFtMttg.  —  Shakspeare. 
Chain  nie  with  roaring  bears ; 
Or  shut  me  nightly  in  a  charnel-house, 
O'er-cover'd  quite  with  dead  men's  rattling  bones, 
With  reeky  shanks,  and  yellow  chapless  skulls; 
Or  bid  me  go  into  a  new-made  grave, 
And  hide  me  with  a  dead  man  in  his  shroud ; 
Things  that,  to  hear  them  told,  have  made  me  tremble ; 
And  I  will  do  it  without  Fear  or  Doubt, 
To  live  an  unstain'd  Wife  of  my  sweet  Love. 

dFtMttg.  —  Byron. 

HPHOUGH  human,  thou  didst  not  deceive  me, 

Though  woman,  thou  didst  not  forsake, 
Though  loved,  thou  foreborest  to  grieve  me, 

Though  slander'd,  thou  never  couldst  shake, — 
Though  trusted,  thou  didst  not  disclaim  me, 

Though  parted,  it  was  not  to  fly, 
Though  watchful,  'twas  not  to  defame  me, 
Nor,  mute,  that  the  World  might  belie. 

jFtnerg.  —  Shakspeare. 
All  that  glisters  is  not  Gold, 
Gilded  Tombs  do  Worms  infold. 

dFtriSt  ^mpreiSS tOltS.  —  Horace. 
What  season'd  first  the  Vessel,  keeps  the  Taste. 

jFlattetg.  —  Anon. 
When  Flatterers  meet,  the  Devil  goes  to  Dinner. 

^f  lattcrg.  —  Greville. 
YY'E  d°  not  always  like  people  the  better,  for  paying  us  all  the 
Court  which  we  ourselves  think  our  due. 

dHatterp.—  Coiton. 

pLATTERY    is    often    a    traffic   of    mutual    Meanness,    where, 
although  both  parties  intend  Deception,  neither  are  deceived. 
dFiatterj).  —  Jean  Paul. 
Men  find  it  more  easy  to  Flatter  than  to  Praise. 
dFlattCtg.  —  Shakspeare. 

He  loves  to  hear, 
That  Unicorns  may  be  betray'd  with  trees, 
And  Bears  with  glasses,  Elephants  with  holes, 
Lions  with  toils,  and  Men  with  Flatterers  : 
But,  when  I  tell  him,  he  hates  Flatterers, 
He  says,  he  does ;  being  then  most  Flatter'd. 
dFlatterj).  —  Shakspeare. 
He  that  loves  to  be  Flattered  is  worthy  o'  the  Flatterer. 


OR,    THING  S  NEW  AND    OLD.  151 


dFlatterj).  _  Shakspeare. 

Be  not  fond, 
To  think  that  Caesar  bears  such  rebel  blood, 
That  will  be  thaw'd  from  the  true  quality 
With  that  which  melteth  Fools  :  I  mean,  Sweet  Words, 
Low-crook'd  Curt'sies,  and  base  Spaniel  Fawning. 

jFlattetg.  —  Shakspeare. 

You  play  the  Spaniel, 
And  think  with  wagging  of  your  Tongue  to  win  me. 

df  lattetj).  —  Shakspeare. 

Why  these  looks  of  Care  ? 
Thy  Flatterers  yet  wear  silk,  drink  wine,  lie  soft; 
Hug  their  diseased  perfumes,  and  have  forgot 
That  ever  Timon  was.     Shame  not  these  words, 
By  putting  on  the  cunning  of  a  Carper. 
Be  thou  a  Flatterer  now,  and  seek  to  thrive 
By  that  which  has  undone  thee :  hinge  thy  Knee, 
And  let  his  very  breath,  whom  thou'lt  observe, 
Blow  off  thy  cap  ;  praise  his  most  vicious  strain, 
And  call  it  excellent. 

dFlatteCg.  —  Shakspeare. 
A  H  !  when  the  means  are  gone,  that  buy  this  Praise, 

The  Breath  is  gone  whereof  this  Praise  is  made  : 
Feast-one,  fast-lost ;  one  cloud  of  winter  showers, 
These  flies  are  couch'd. 

jFlattetJ).  —  Shakspeare. 
Why,  what  a  deal  of  candied  Courtesy, 
This  fawning  Greyhound  then  did  proffer  me  ! 
The  Devil  take  such  Cozeners  ! — God  forgive  me  ! 

dFlattetg.  —  Shakspeare. 
No  visor  does  become  black  Villany 
So  well  as  soft  and  tender  Flattery. 

dFlatterp,  —  otway. 

"YTO  Flatt'ry,  boy  !  an  honest  man  can't  live  by't : 

It  is  a  little  sneaking  art,  which  knaves 
Use  to  cajole  and  soften  fools  withal. 
If  thou  hast  Flatt'ry  in  thy  nature,  out  with't; 
Or  send  it  to  a  court,  for  there  'twill  thrive. 

dFlattetp.  —  Hannah  More. 
Hold! 
No  Adulation  :  'tis  the  death  of  Virtue  ! 
Who  flatters  is  of  all  mankind  the  lowest, 
Save  he  who  courts  the  Flattery. 
0 


152  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF    TRUTH; 

dFlatterg.  —  Shakspeare. 
My  beauty,  though  but  mean, 
Needs  not  the  painted  flourish  of  your  Praise. 
Beauty  is  bought  by  judgment  of  the  eye, 
Not  utter'd  by  base  sale  of  chapmen's  tongues. 

irttnglp  jflSitUX$.  — Shakspeare. 
THEY  do  abuse  the  King  that  flatter  him: 
For  Flattery  is  the  bellows  blows  up  sin; 
The  thing  the  which  is  flatter'd,  but  a  spark, 
To  which  that  breath  gives  heat  and  stronger  glowing; 
Whereas  reproof,  obedient  and  in  order, 
Fits  Kings,  as  they  are  Men,  for  they  may  err. 

Ci)e  dfOOl.  —  Goethe. 
QF  all  thieves  Fools  are  the  worst :  they  rob  you  of  time  and 
temper. 

&{)e  dFOOL  —  La  Bruyere. 
A  Fool  cannot  look,  nor  stand,  nor  walk  like  a  man  of  sense. 

^Tjie  jffOOL  —  Anon. 
JJE  must  be  a  thorough  Fool  who  can  learn  nothing  from  his 
own  Folly. 

jpOllitft.  — La  Rochefoucauld. 
There  are  Follies  as  catching  as  contagious  disorders. 

dFolljD.  —  Hare. 
None  but  a  Fool  is  always  right. 

JftS  \\)).—  Horace. 
When  free  from  Folly,  we  to  Wisdom  rise. 

jfnlln.  _  Colton. 
A   FOOL  is  often  as  dangerous  to  deal  with  as  a  Knave,  and 
always  more  incorrigible. 

.^Follj).  —  Shakspeare. 
^"ONE  are  so  surely  caught,  when  they  are  catch'd, 
As  Wit  turn'd  Fool :  Folly,  in  Wisdom  hatch'd, 
Hath  Wisdom's  warrant,  and  the  help  of  school ; 
And  Wit's  own  grace,  to  grace  a  learned  Fool. 
The  blood  of  youth  burns  not  with  such  excess, 
As  Gravity's  revolt  to  wantonness. 
Folly  in  Fools  bears  not  so  strong  a  note, 
As  Foolery  in  the  wise,  when  Wit  doth  dote; 
Since  all  the  power  thereof  it  doth  apply, 
To  prove,  by  Wit,  worth  in  Simplicity. 


OR,     THINGS    NEW    AND     OLD.  153 

dfaPP^g.—  Johnson. 

I70PPERY  is  never  cured;   it  is  the  bad  stamina  of  the  mind, 
which,  like   those   of  the   body,   are   never   rectified;    once   a 
Coxcomb,  and  always  a  Coxcomb. 

^Forbearance. —Epictetus. 

T^VERY  thing  hath  two  handles :  the  one  soft  and  manageable, 
the  other  such  as  will  not  endure  to  be  touched.  If  then  your 
brother  do  you  an  injury,  do  not  take  it  by  the  hot  and  hard  handle, 
by  representing  to  yourself  all  the  aggravating  circumstances  of 
the  fact;  but  look  rather  on  the  soft  side,  and  extenuate  it  as 
much  as  is  possible,  by  considering  the  nearness  of  the  relation, 
and  the  long  friendship  and  familiarity  between  you — obligations 
to  kindness  which  a  single  provocation  ought  not  to  dissolve.  And 
thus  you  will  take  the  accident  by  its  manageable  handle. 

^Forbearance.  —  shakspeare. 

Use  every  man  after  his  desert,  and  who  shall  'scape  whipping? 

^Foreign  influence.  —  Washington. 

A  GAINST  the  insidious  wiles  of  foreign  influence,  the  jealousy 
of  a  free  people  ought  to  be  constantly  awake;  since  history 
and  experience  prove,  that  foreign  influence  is  one   of  the  most 
baneful  foes  of  republican  government. 

tfattmQf)L—CoUon. 

A  CCUSTOM  yourself  to  submit  on  all  and  every  occasion,  and 
on  the  most  minute,  no  less  than  on  the  most  important  cir- 
cumstances of  life,  to  a  small  Present  Evil,  to  obtain  a  greater 
Distant  Good.  This  will  give  decision,  tone,  and  energy  to  the 
Mind,  which,  thus  disciplined,  will  often  reap  victory  from  defeat, 
and  honour  from  repulse. 

jForeSt'gfjt.  —  Shakspeare. 
To  fear  the  worst,  oft  cures  the  worst. 

dForgtbenejSSS.  —  Shakspeare. 

Kneel  not  to  me  : 
The  power  that  I  have  on  you,  is  to  spare  you ; 
The  malice  towards  you,  to  forgive  you :  live, 
And  deal  with  others  better. 


dForgtbcneSS.  —  Shakspeare. 

Fury 


THOUGH  with  their  high  wrongs  I  am  struck  to  the  quick, 
Yet,  with  my  nobler  Reason,  against  my  — 


Do  I  take  part :  the  rarer  action  is 
In  Virtue  than  in  Vengeance 


J54  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 


jFQtm$.  —  Hare. 

f~\¥  what  use  are  Forms,  seeing  that  at  times  they  are  empty  ? 
Of  the  same  use  as  barrels,  which  at  times  are  empty  too. 

dFortttUto.  —  Shakspeare. 

Bid  that  welcome 
Which  comes  to  punish  us,  aud  we  punish  it, 
Seeming  to  bear  it  lightly. 

.jFortltlrtie.  —  Shakspeare. 
T/tTISE  men  ne'er  sit  and  wail  their  loss, 

But  cheerty  seek  how  to  redress  their  harms. 
What  though  the  mast  be  now  blown  overboard, 
The  cable  broke,  the  holding  anchor  lost, 
And  half  our  sailors  swallow'd  in  the  flood  ? 
Yet  lives  our  Pilot  still :  Is  it  meet,  that  he 
Should  leave  the  helm,  and,  like  a  fearful  lad, 
With  tearful  eyes  add  water  to  the  sea, 
And  give  more  strength  to  that  which  hath  too  much; 
Whiles,  in  his  moan,  the  ship  splits  on  a  rock, 
Which  industry  and  courage  might  have  saved  ? 

dFortttUtre.  —  Shakspeare. 
The  Mind  I  sway  by,  and  the  Heart  I  bear, 
Shall  never  sagg  with  doubt,  nor  shake  with  Fear. 

$KX\\iVfot.  — Byron. 

T£XISTENCE  may  be  borne,  and  the  deep  root 
Of  life  and  Sufferance  make  its  firm  abode 

In  bare  and  desolated  bosoms :  mute  . 

The  camel  labours  with  the  heaviest  load, 
And  the  wolf  dies  in  silence, — not  bestow'd 

In  vain  should  such  example  be;  if  they, 
Things  of  ignoble  or  of  savage  mood, 

Endure  and  shrink  not,  we  of  nobler  clay 

May  temper  it  to  bear, — it  is  but  for  a  day. 

jFortttUtie.  —  Shakspeare. 
Though  Fortune's  malice  overthrow  my  state, 
My  Mind  exceeds  the  compass  of  her  wheel. 

jFortttUtre.  —  Channing. 
HPHE  greatest  man  is  he  who  chooses  the  right  with  invincib.e 
Resolution ;  who  resists  the  sorest  temptations  from  within  and 
without;  who  bears  the  heaviest  burdens  cheerfully  ;  who  is  the 
calmest  in  storms,  and  whose  reliance  on  Truth,  on  Virtue,  on  God, 
is  the  most  unfaltering. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  155 

jFortitlrtie.  —Byron. 
TTAVE  I  not  had  my  brain  sear'd,  ray  heart  riven, 

Hopes  sapp'd,  name  blighted,  life's  life  lied  away  ? 
And  only  not  to  Desperation  driven, 
Because  not  altogether  of  such  clay, 
As  rots  into  the  souls  of  those  whom  I  survey. 

^Fortunate  f&tn.  —  Cicero. 

'FHE  man  who  is  always  Fortunate  cannot  easily  have  a  great 
reverence  for  Virtue. 

^Fortune.  —  Shdkspeare. 
TyiLL  Fortune  never  come  with  both  hands  full, 

But  write  her  fair  words  still  in  foulest  letters? 
She  either  gives  a  stomach,  and  no  food, — 
Such  are  the  poor  in  health  •  or  else  a  feast, 
And  takes  away  the  stomach, — such  the  rich, 
That  have  abundance,  and  enjoy  it  not. 

^Fortune.  —  Thomson. 
Oft,  what  seems 
A  trifle,  a  mere  nothing,  by  itself, 
In  some  nice  situations,  turns  the  scale 
Of  Fate,  and  rules  the  most  important  actions. 

^Fortune.  —  Shakspeare. 
Of  Nature's  Gifts  thou  may'st  with  lilies  boast, 
And  with  the  half-blown  rose  :  but  Fortune,  Oh  ! 
She  is  corrupted,  changed,  and  won  from  thee. 

dFOCtUTte.  —  Shakspeare. 

Fortune  is  merry, 
And  in  this  mood  will  give  us  any  thing. 

^Fortune.  —  Shakspeare. 
When  Fortune  means  to  men  most  good, 
She  looks  upon  them  with  a  threat'ning  eye. 

^Fortune.—  Coiton. 

'THERE  are  some  men  who  are  Fortune's  Favourites,  and  who, 
like  cats,  light  for  ever  upon  their  legs. 

jFOttimr.  —From  the  French. 
C*  OOD  Fortune  and  Bad  are  equally  necessary  to  Man,  to  fit  him 
to  meet  the  contingencies  of  this  life. 

jfOttVMC.  —  Goldsmith. 
Vy'HAT  real  Good  does  an  addition  to  a  fortune  already  sufficient, 
procure  ?     Not    any.      Could  the  great  man,  by  having  his 
Fortune    increased,  increase    also    his    appetites,  then    precedence 
oiight  be  attended  with  real  amusement. 

o2 


156  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

dfOttVLnt.—  GrevUle. 
QURELY  no  man  can  reflect,  without  wonder,  upon  the  Vicissi- 
tudes of  Human  Life  arising  from  causes  in  the  highest  degree 
accidental  and  trifling.  If  you  trace  the  necessary  concatenation  of 
Human  Events,  a  very  little  way  back,  you  may  perhaps  discover 
that  a  person's  very  going  in  or  out  of  a  door  has  been  the  means 
of  colouring  with  misery  or  happiness  the  remaining  current  of  his  life 

jFortime.  —  Montaigne. 
"pORTUNE  does  us  neither  good  nor  hurt;  she  only  presents  us 
the  matter  and  the  seed,  which  our  soul,  more  powerful  than 
she,  turns  and  applies  as  she  best  pleases,  being  the  sole  cause  and 
sovereign  mistress  of  her  own  happy  or  unhappy  condition.     All 
external  accessions  receive  taste  and  colour  from  the  internal  con- 
stitution, ns  clothes  warm  us  not  with  their  heat,  but  our  own, 
which  they  are  adapted  to  cover  and  keep  in. 
jFOttUtte*  — Rousseau. 
We  do  not  know  what  is  really  Good  or  Bad  Fortune. 
JCirtUne,  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
(^j-OOD  or  Bad  Fortune  generally  pursue    those  who    have    the 
greatest  share  of  either.     The  prosperous  man  seems  as  a  mag- 
net to  attract  Prosperity. 

dfOTtUUt.  — La  Rochefoucauld. 
TPHE  Good  or  the  Bad  Fortune  of  Men  depend  not  less  upon  their 
own  dispositions  than  upon  Fortune. 

fortune.  —  Tacitus. 
rFHERE  are  many  Men  who  appear  to  be  struggling  against  Ad- 
versity, and    yet   are    happy;    but  yet   more,  who,  although 
abounding  in  Wealth,  are  miserable. 

jFOttUTte.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
T\TE  should  manage  our  Fortune  as  we  do  our  health — enjoy  it 
when  good,  be  patient  when  it  is  bad,  and  never  apply  violent 
remedies  except  in  an  extreme  necessity. 

JfOttUKtt. — La  Rochefoucauld. 
HPHE  moderation  of  Fortunate  People  comes  from  the  calm  which 
Good  Fortune  gives  to  their  tempers. 

Jf  OllUne.  —  Shenstone. 
THE  worst  inconvenience  of  a  Small  Fortune  is  that  it  will  noi 
admit  of  inadvertency. 

^lagtltg  tottf)  jFftttUVLZ.  —  Shakspeare. 

TTAPPINESS  courts  thee  in  her  best  array ; 
But,  like  a  misbehaved  and  sullen  wench, 
Thou  pout'st  upon  thy  Fortune  and  thy  Love. 
Take  heed,  take  heed,  for  such  die  miserable 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AXD    OLD.  157 

^Fortune.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
It  requires  greater  virtues  to  support  Good  than  Bad  Fortune. 

JfFtatltJ?.  —  Shakspeare. 
Where's  that  palace,  whereinto  foul  things 
Sometimes  intrude  not  ?  who  has  a  Breast  so  pure, 
But  some  uncleanly  apprehensions 
Keep  leets,  and  law-days,  and  in  session  sit 
With  meditations  lawful? 

^reetiom.—  RaM. 

HTO  have  Freedom,  is  only  to  have  that  which  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  enable  us  to  be  what  we  ought  to  be,  and  to  possess 
what  we  ought  to  possess. 

.^FtCetfOttt.  —  Channing. 
'THE  only  freedom  worth  possessing  is  that  which  gives  enlarge- 
ment to  a  people's  energy,  intellect,  and  virtues.  The  savage 
makes  his  boast  of  freedom.  But  what  is  its  worth  ?  Free  as  he 
is,  be  continues  for  ages  in  the  same  ignorance,  leads  the  same  com- 
fortless life,  sees  the  same  untamed  wilderness  spread  around  him. 
He  is,  indeed,  free  from  what  he  calls  the  yoke  of  civil  institutions. 
But  other  and  worse  chains  bind  him.  The  very  privation  of  civil 
government  is  in  effect  a  chain;  for,  by  withholding  protection 
from  property,  it  virtually  shackles  th.e  arm  of  industry,  and  forbids 
exertion  for  the  melioration  of  his  lot.  Progress,  the  growth  of 
power,  is  the  end  and  boon  of  liberty ;  and,  without  this,  a  people 
may  have  the  name,  but  want  the  substance  and  spirit  of  freedom 

Ci)e  ttUlg  $KtZ.  — Horace. 
T\/'HO  then  is  Free  ? — The  Wise,  who  well  maintains 

An  empire  o'er  himself;  whom  neither  Chains, 
Nor  Want,  nor  Death,  with  slavish  Fear  inspire; 
Who  boldly  answers  to  his  warm  desire  ; 
Who  can  Ambition's  vainest  gifts  despise  ; 
Firm  in  himself,  who  on  himself  relies; 
Polish'd  and  round,  who  runs  his  proper  course, 
And  breaks  misfortune  with  superior  force. 

dFrietrtJ!5t)tp.—  Joanna  Baillie. 
Friendship  is  no  plant  of  hasty  growth. 
Though  planted  in  esteem's  deep-fix'd  soil, 
The  gradual  culture  of  kind  Intercourse 
Must  bring  it  to  perfection. 

dFrientJSi)tp.  —  Burton. 
'THE  Attachments  of  mere  Mirth  are  but  the  shadows  of  that  true 
Friendship,  of  which  the  sincere  Affections  of  the  Heart  are 
the  substance. 


158         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

dFncnfcSijtp.  —  Shakspeare. 

Thou  art  e'en  as  just  a  Man, 
As  e'er  my  conversation  coped  withal. 
Nay,  do  not  think  I  flatter : 
For  what  advancement  may  I  hope  from  thee, 
That  no  revenue  hast,  but  thy  good  spirits, 
To  feed  and  clothe  thee?     Should  the  poor  be  flatter'd? 
No,  let  the  candied  tongue  lick  absurd  Pomp, 
And  crook  the  pregnant  hinges  of  the  knee, 
Where  thrift  may  follow  fawning.      Dost  thou  hear? 
Since  my  dear  Soul  was  mistress  of  her  choice, 
And  could  of  men  distinguish,  her  election 
Hath  seal'd  thee  for  herself.     For  thou  hast  been 
As  one,  in  suffering  all,  that  suffers  nothing: 
A  Man,  that  Fortune's  buffets  and  rewards 
Hast  ta'en  with  equal  thanks.     And  blest  are  those, 
Whose  blood  and  judgment  are  so  well  commingled, 
That  they  are  not  a  pipe  for  Fortune's  finger 
To  sound  what  stop  she  please.     Give  me  that  Man 
That  is  not  Passion's  slave,  and  I  will  wear  him 
In  my  Heart's  core:  ay,  in  my  Heart  of  Hearts, 
As  I  do  thee. 

dFnentJSf)tp.  —  Shakspeare. 
f\  WORLD,  thy  slippery  turns !  Friends  now  fast  sworn, 

Whose  double  Bosoms  seem  to  wear  one  Heart, 
Whose  hours,  whose  bed,  whose  meal  and  exercise, 
Are  still  together,  who  twin,  as  'twere  in  Love 
Unseparable,  shall  within  this  hour, 
On  a  dissension  of  a  doit,  break  out 
To  bitterest  Enmity. 

dFrientlSfnp.  —  Lavaier. 
'THE  qualities  of  your  Friends  will  be  those  of  your  Enemies: 
cold  Friends,  cold  Enemies;  half  Friends,  half  Enemies;  fervid 
Enemies,  warm  Friends. 

dFrtentJsfjtp.  _  ntzosbome. 

'THOUGH  judgment  must  collect  the  materials  of  the  goodly 
structure  of  Friendship,  it  is  Affection  that  gives  the  cement; 
and  Passion  as  well  as  Reason  should  concur  in  forming  a  firm  and 
lasting  coalition.  Hence,  perhaps,  it  is,  that  not  only  the  most 
powerful,  but  the  most  lasting  Friendships  are  usually  the  produce 
of  the  early  season  of  our  lives,  when  we  are  most  susceptible  of 
the  warm  and  affectionate  impressions.  The  connections  into  which 
we  enter  in  any  after  period,  decrease  in  strength  as  our  passions 
abate  in  heat 


OR,     THINGS    NEW  AND    OLD.  159 

jFrientlSfjip.  —  Shakspeare. 
The  Amity  that  Wisdom  knits  not,  Folly  may  easily  untie. 

dFrterttJSi)tp.  —  Cicero. 
pilTENDSHIP  is  the  only  thing  in  the  world  concerning  the  use- 
fulness of  which  all  mankind  are  agreed. 

.jFrietttlSfjtp,  —  Horace. 
Wise  were  the  Kings  who  never  chose  a  Friend 
Till  with  full  cups  they  had  unmask'd  his  Soul, 
And  seen  the  bottom  of  his  deepest  thoughts. 

dFrinttlStjtP-  —  Shakspeare. 
(~)H,  lest  the  World  should  task  you  to  recite 
What  merit  lived  in  me,  that  you  should  love 

After  my  death, — dear  love,  forget  me  quite, 
For  you  in  me  can  nothing  worthy  prove; 

Unless  you  would  devise  some  virtuous  lie, 
To  do  more  for  me  than  mine  own  desert, 

And  hang  more  praise  upon  deceased  I, 
Than  niggard  truth  would  willingly  impart; 

Oh,  lest  your  true  love  may  seem  false  in  this, 
That  you  for  love  speak  well  of  me  untrue, 

My  name  be  buried  where  my  body  is, 
And  live  no  more  to  shame  nor  me  nor  you. 

For  I  am  shamed  by  that  which  I  bring  forth, 

And  so  should  you,  to  love  things  nothing  worth. 

jFttnrtJSfjtp.—  Greville. 
T'O  say,  with  La  Rochefoucauld,  that  "in  the  adversity  of  our  best 
Friends  there  is  something  that  does  not  displease  us;"  and  to 
say,  that  in  the  prosperity  of  our  best  Friends  there  is  something 
that  does  not  please  us,  seems  to  be  the  same  thing;  yet  I  believe 
the  first  is  false,  and  the  latter  true. 

.dFrinrtjgfjtp.—  Coiton. 

'THOSE  who  have  resources  within  themselves,  who  can  dare  to 
live  alone,  want  Friends  the  least,  but,  at  the  same  time,  best 
know  how  to  prize  them  the  most.  But  no  company  is  far  prefer- 
able to  bad,  because  we  are  more  apt  to  catch  the  vices  of  others 
than  their  virtues,  as  disease  is  far  more  contagious  than  health. 
dFrientJSfjtp.  —  Shakspeare. 

Friends  condemn'd 
Embrace,  and  kiss,  and  take  ten  thousand  leaves, 
Loather  a  hundred  times  to  part  than  die. 
3ftltXltl8\)lV.  — Shakspeare. 

Now  do  I  play  the  touch, 
To  try  if  thou  be  current  gold,  indeed. 


160         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH, 
Jfxientstyiy.  —  Saiiust. 

'TO  be  influenced  by  a  passion  for  the  same  pursuits,  and  to  have 
similar  dislikes,  is  the  rational  groundwork  of  lasting  Friend- 
ship. 

dFrtCtttlSJnp.  —  Socrates. 
/^j.ET  not  your  Friends  by  bare  compliments,  but  by  giving  them 
sensible  tokens  of  your  love.  It  is  well  worth  while  to  learn 
how  to  win  the  heart  of  a  man  the  right  way.  Force  is  of  no  use 
to  make  or  preserve  a  Friend,  who  is  an  animal  that  is  never  caught 
nor  tamed  but  by  kindness  and  pleasure.  Excite  them  by  your 
civilities,  and  show  them  that  you  desire  nothing  more  than  their 
satisfaction ;  oblige  with  all  your  soul  that  Friend  who  has  made 
you  a  present  of  his  own. 

dFrietttJSf)tp.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
TS  all  the  Counsel  that  we  two  have  shared, 

The  Sisters'  Vows,  the  hours  that  we  have  spent, 
When  we  have  chid  the  hasty -footed  time 
For  parting  us, — Oh,  and  is  all  forgot  ? 
All  school-days'  Friendship,  Childhood  Innocence  ? 
We,  Herrnia,  like  two  artificial  gods, 
Have  with  our  neelds  created  both  one  flower, 
Both  on  one  sampler,  sitting  on  one  cushion, 
Both  warbling  of  one  song,  both  in  one  key ; 
As  if  our  hands,  our  sides,  voices,  and  minds, 
Had  been  incorporate.     So  we  grew  together, 
Like  a  double  cherry,  seeming  parted ; 
But  yet  a  union  in  partition, 
Two  lovely  berries  moulded  on  one  stem : 
So,  with  two  seeming  bodies,  but  one  Heart; 
Two  of  the  first,  like  coats  in  heraldry, 
Due  but  to  one,  and  crown'd  with  one  crest. 
And  will  you  rend  our  ancient  Love  asunder  ? 

;jFrientl!3f)iP-  —  Southern. 
pKIENDSHIP  is  power  and  riches  all  to  me; 

Friendship's  another  element  of  life  : 
Water  and  fire  not  of  more  general  use, 
To  the  support  and  comfort  of  the  world, 
Than  Friendship  to  the  being  of  my  joy  : 
I  would  do  every  thing  to  serve  a  Friend. 

jFrtClttllSijtp.  —  Shakspeare. 
T  COUNT  myself  in  nothing  else  so  happy, 

As  in  a  soul  rememb'ring  my  good  Friends  • 
And,  as  my  fortune  ripens  with  thy  love, 
It  shall  be  still  thy  true  love's  recompense. 


OR.    THING  S  NEW  AND  OLD.  161 

dFrinttortjtp.  —  Coiton. 

A  N  act,  by  which  we  make  one  Friend  and  one  Enemy,  is  a  losing 
game;    because  Revenge  is  a  much  stronger   principle  than 
Gratitude. 

dFrtcntJSfjtp.  —  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
THOU  mayst  be  sure  that  he  that  will  in  private  tell  thee  of  thy 
faults,  is  thy  Friend,  for  he  adventures  thy  dislike,  and  doth 
hazard  thy  hatred ;  for  there  are  few  men  that  can  endure  it,  every 
man  for  the  most  part  delighting  in  self-praise,  which  is  one  of  the 
most  universal  follies  that  bewitcheth  Mankind. 

dFrientlSfjtp.  —  Young. 
(CELESTIAL  Happiness  !  Whene'er  she  stoops 

To  visit  earth,  one  shrine  the  Goddess  finds, 
And  one  alone,  to  make  her  sweet  amends 
For  absent  heaven, — the  bosom  of  a  Friend, 
Where  Heart  meets  Heart, 
Each  other's  pillow  to  repose  divine. 

dFrientlSJjtp.  _  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
THERE  is  nothing  more  becoming  any  wise  man,  than  to  make 
choice  of  Friends,  for  by  them  thou  shalt  be  judged  what  thou 
art :  let  them  therefore  be  wise  and  virtuous,  and  none  of  those 
that  follow  thee  for  gain ;  but  make  election  rather  of  thy  betters, 
than  thy  inferiors,  shunning  always  such  as  are  needy;  fur  if  thou 
givest  twenty  gifts,  and  refuse  to  do  the  like  but  once,  all  that  thou 
hast  done  will  be  lost,  and  such  men  will  become  thy  mortal 
enemies. 

.jFuentJ0f)tp.  —  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 
THE  lightsome  countenance  of  a  Friend  giveth  such  an  inward 
decking  to  the  house  where  it  lodgeth,  as  proudest  palaces  have 
cause  to  envy  the  gilding. 

dFnentJ0f)tp.  —  Shakspeare. 
"PY  Heaven,  I  cannot  flatter  :  I  defy 

The  tongues  of  soothers ;  but  a  braver  place 
In  my  Heart's  Love  hath  no  man  than  yourself; 
Nay,  task  me  to  my  word ;  approve  me. 

jFriCtttl£if)iP.  —  Fuller. 
I  ET  Friendship  creep  gently  to  a  height ;  if  it  rush  to  it,  it  may 
soon  run  itself  out  of  breath. 

dFrient!j3f)tp.  —Johnson. 
TF  a  man  does  not  make  new  Acquaintance  as  he  advances  through 
life,  he  will  soon  find  himself  left  alone.     A  man  should  keep 
his  Friendship  in  constant  repair. 

11 


102         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

dFrientUSijtJL  —  Goldsmith. 
THERE  are  few  subjects  which  have  been  more  written  upon, 
and  less  understood,  than  that  of  friendship.  To  follow  the 
dictates  of  some,  this  virtue,  instead  of  being  the  assuager  of  pain, 
becomes  the  source  of  every  inconvenience.  Such  speculatists,  by 
expecting  too  much  from  Friendship,  dissolve  the  connection,  and 
by  drawing  the  bands  too  closely,  at  length  break  them. 

jfrientJSfjtp.  —  Sir  William  Temple. 
SOMETHING  like  home  that  is  not  home,  like  alone  that  is  not 
alone,  is  to  be  wished,  and  only  found  in  a  Friend,  or  in  his 
house. 

dFr  tentllSf)  ip .  —  Shakspeare. 

In  Companions 
That  do  converse  and  waste  the  time  together, 
Whose  Souls  do  bear  an  equal  Yoke  of  Love, 
There  must  be  needs  a  like  proportion 
Of  lineaments,  of  manners,  and  of  spirit. 

J^rtent(Sl)tp.  —  Chesterfield. 
DEAL  Friendship  is  a  slow  grower;  and  never  thrives,  unless 
engrafted  upon  a  stock  of  known  and  reciprocal  Merit. 

dfFrientJSjtp.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
Rare  as  is  true  Love,  true  Friendship  is  still  rarer. 

,-jFr  tentJSi)  tp.  —  Hawkesworth. 
"PEW  men  are  calculated  for  that  close  connection  which  we  dis- 
tinguish by  the  appellation  of  Friendship :  the  Acquaintance 
is  in  a  post  of  progression  \  and  after  having  passed  through  a 
course  of  proper  experience,  and  given  sufficient  evidence  of  his 
merit,  takes  a  new  title. 

jftitrit*$l)i$.  —  Shakspeare. 
Give  thy  thoughts  no  tongue, 
Nor  any  unproportion'd  thought  his  act. 
Be  thou  familiar,  but  by  no  means  vulgar. 
The  Friends  thou  hast,  and  their  adoption  tried, 
Grapple  them  to  thy  soul  with  hooks  of  steel ; 
But  do  not  dull  thy  palm  with  entertainment 
Of  each  new-hatch'd,  unfledged  comrade. 

dFrienfcStjt'p.  —  Chesterfield. 
'THOSE  who  in  the  common  course  of  the  world  will  call  them 
selves  your  Friends  ;  or  whom,  according  to  the  common  notions 
of  Friendship,  you  may  probably  think  such,  will  never  tell  you  of 
your  faults,  still  less  of  your  weaknesses.  But  on  the  contrary,  more 
desirous  to  make  you  their  Friend  than  to  prove  themselves  yours, 
tbey  will  flatter  both,  and,  in  truth,  not  be  sorry  for  either. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD  163 

jFrimtlSf)tp.  —  Catherine  Phillips. 
"PSSEXTIAL  honour  must  be  in  a  friend, 

Not  such  as  every  breath  fans  to  and  fro ; 
But  born  within,  is  its  own  judge  and  end, 

And  dares  not  sin,  though  sure  that  none  should  know. 
Where  Friendship's  spoke,  Honesty's  understood ; 
For  none  can  be  a  Friend  that  is  not  good. 

iFrteitflSfjtp.  —  Shalcspeare. 
~]VJ"0  longer  mourn  for  me  when  I  am  dead 

Than  you  shall  hear  the  surly  sullen  bell 
Give  warning  to  the  world  that  I  am  fled 

From  this  vile  world,  with  vilest  worms  to  dwell : 
Nay,  if  you  read  this  line,  remember  not 

The  Hand  that  writ  it ;  for  I  love  you  so, 
That  I  in  your  sweet  Thoughts  would  be  forgot, 

If  thinking  on  me  then  should  make  you  wo. 
Oh  if  (I  say)  you  look  upon  this  verse, 

When  I  perhaps  compounded  am  with  clay. 
Do  not  so  much  as  my  poor  name  rehearse ; 

But  let  your  Love  even  with  my  life  decay : 
Lest  the  wise  world  should  look  into  your  moan, 
And  mock  you  with  me  after  I  am  gone. 

,iFricnu\Sf)tp.  —  La  Fontaine. 
^OTHINGr  more  dangerous  than  a  Friend  without  discretion  ; 
even  a  prudent  Enemy  is  preferable. 

dFnnt UlSi) tp.  —  From  the  Latin. 
C\F  no  worldly  good  can  the  enjoyment  be  perfect,  unless  it  is 
shared  by  a  Friend. 

^ttentfsfjtp. — Haziitt. 

The  youth  of  Friendship  is  better  than  its  old  age. 

dFttCntlSijtp.  —  Fuller. 
"YTAKE  not  thy  Friends  too  cheap  to  thee,  nor  thyself  to  thy 
Friend. 

lFuettt!Si)tp.  —  Shakspeare. 

Brutus  hath  rived  my  heart: 
A  Friend  should  bear  his  Friend's  infirmities, 
But  Brutus  makes  mine  greater  than  they  are 

dFnentJSinp.— Havard. 

I  have  too  deeply  read  Mankind 
To  be  amused  with  Friendship;  'tis  a  name 
Invented  merely  to  betray  credulity  : 
'Tis  intercourse  of  Interest — not  of  Souls. 
P 


164  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

,iFcicntJSi)tp.  —  Clarendon. 
"FRIENDSHIP  is  compounded  of  all  those  soft  ingredients  which 
can  insinuate  themselves  and  slide  insensibly  into  the  nature 
and  temper  of  men  of  the  most  different  constitutions,  as  well  as 
of  those  strong  and  active  spirits  which  can  make  their  way  into 
perverse  and  obstinate  dispositions  )  and  because  Discretion  is 
always  predominant  in  it,  it  works  and  prevails  least  upon  Fools, 
Wicked  men  are  often  reformed  by  it,  weak  men  seldom. 

jftmXbSfyiV.— Fuller. 
PURCHASE  not  Friends  by  gifts ;  when  thou  ceasest  to  give, 
such  will  cease  to  love. 

dPrietttfS  f)tp.  —  Savage. 
YOU'LL  find  the  Friendship  of  the  World  a  show  ! 
Mere  outward  show !  'Tis  like  the  harlot's  tears, 
The  statesman's  promise,  or  false  patriot's  zeal, 
Full  of  fair  seeming,  but  delusion  all. 

df  ncntfSijtp.  —  Addison. 
The  Friendships  of  the  World  are  oft 
Confed'racies  in  vice,  or  leagues  of  pleasure. 

jFrinrtfSfjtp.—  Trap. 
Friendship  must  be  accompanied  with  Virtue, 
And  always  lodged  in  great  and  gen'rous  Minds. 

jFrieirtJgf)tp.  —  Blair. 
FRIENDSHIP  !  mysterious  cement  of  the  Soul ! 

Sweet'ner  of  Life  and  solder  of  Society  ! 
I  owe  thee  much.     Thou  hast  deserved  of  me 
Far,  far  beyond  what  I  can  ever  pay. 
Oft  have  I  proved  the  labours  of  thy  Love, 
And  the  warm  efforts  of  the  gentle  Heart 
Anxious  to  please. 

Jf  rienilSfn'p,  —  Spenser. 
'W'E,  certes  can  that  Friendship  long  endure, 

However  gay  and  goodly  be  the  style, 
That  doth  ill  cause  or  evill  end  enure, 
For  Vertue  is  the  band  that  bindeth  Harts  most  sure 

dPricntlSijtp.—  Lee. 
In  their  nonage,  a  sympathy 
Unusual  join'd  their  Loves: 
They  pair'd  like  Turtles;  still  together  drank, 
Together  eat,  nor  quarrell'd  for  the  choice. 
Like  twining  Streams  both  from  one  Fountain  fell, 
And  as  they  ran  still  mingled  smiles  and  tears. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  1G5 

dFttettfcSJjtp.  —Addison. 
Great  Souls  by  instinct  to  each  other  turn, 
Demand  Alliance,  and  in  Friendship  burn. 

jfxm\1}8\)i$.  —  Dr!/den. 

I  CAN  forgive 
A  Foe,  but  not  a  Mistress,  and  a  Friend  : 
Treason  is  there  in  its  most  horrid  shape, 
Where  trust  is  greatest !  and  the  Soul  resign'd 
Is  stabb'd  by  her  own  guards. 

jFrtentlSf)tp.  —  Fuller. 
ATAKE  not  a  Bosom  Friend  of  a  melancholy  soul :  he'll  be  sure 
to  aggravate  thy  adversity,  and  lessen  thy  prosperity.  He 
goes  always  heavy  loaded;  and  thou  must  bear  half.  He's  never 
in  a  good  humour;  and  may  easily  get  into  a  bad  one,  and  fall  out 
with  thee. 

jFrugalt'tp.  —  Burke. 
"PRUGALITY  is  founded  on  the  principle,  that  all  riches  have 
limits. 

jFtUgalttJf*—  Johnson. 

"pRUGALITY  may  be  termed   the  Daughter  of  Prudence,   the 
Sister  of  Temperance,  and  the  Parent  of  Liberty.     He  that  is 
extravagant  will  quickly  become  Poor,  and  Poverty  will  enforce 
dependence,  and  invite  corruption. 

jFrugalttp.—  Cicero. 
The  World  has  not  yet  learned  the  Riches  of  Frugality. 

Cf)e  future.  —  Seneca. 
'THE  state  of  that  Man's  Mind  who  feels  too  intense  an  interest 
as  to  Future  Events,  must  be  most  deplorable. 

^Future  Stat*.  —Addison. 
"V^THY  will  any  man  be  so  impertinently  officious  as  to  tell  me 
all  prospect  of  a  Future  State  is  only  fancy  and  delusion  ? 
Is  there  any  merit  in  being  the  messenger  of  ill  news?  If  it  is  a 
dream,  let  me  enjoy  it,  since  it  makes  me  both  the  happier  and 
better  man. 

^Future  State.  —  Cicero. 
'THERE  is,  I  know  not  how,  in  the  minds  of  men,   a  certain 
presage,  as  it  were,  of  a  Future  Existence,  and   this  takes  the 
deepest  root,  and  is  most  discoverable,  in  the  greatest  geniuses  and 
most  exalted  souls. 


166  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

,-fFuture  State.  —  Coiton. 

TEAVEN  may  have  happiness  as  utterly  unknown  to  us,  as  the 
gift  of  perfect  vision  would  be  to  a  man  born  blind.  If  we 
consider  the  inlets  of  pleasure  from  five  senses  only,  we  may  be 
sure  that  the  same  Being  who  created  us,  could  have  given  us  five 
hundred,  if  he  had  pleased.  Mutual  love,  pure  and  exalted,  founded 
on  charms  both  mental  and  corporeal,  as  it  constitutes  the  highest 
happiness  on  earth,  may,  for  any  thing  we  know  to  the  contrary, 
also  form  the  lowest  happiness  of  Heaven.  And  it  would  appear 
consonant  with  the  administration  of  Providence  in  other  matters, 
that  there  should  be  such  a  link  between  Earth  and  Heaven ;  for, 
in  all  cases,  a  Chasm  seems  to  he  purposely  avoided  "prudente  Deo." 
Thus,  the  Material  World  has  its  links,  by  which  it  is  made  to  shake 
hands,  as  it  were,  with  the  Vegetable, — the  vegetable  with  the 
Animal, — the  animal  with  the  Intellectual, — and  the  intellectual 
with  what  we  may  be  allowed  to  hope  of  the  Angelic. 

a  ^Future  State.  —  Dryden. 
Sure  there  is  none  but  fears  a  Future  State; 
And  when  the  most  obdurate  swear  they  do  not, 
Their  trembling  hearts  belie  their  boasting  tongues. 

a  dFuture  State.— Dryden. 
T)IVINES  but  peep  on  undiscover'd  worlds, 

And  draw  the  distant  landscape  as  they  please; 
But  who  has  e'er  return' d  from  those  bright  regions, 
To  tell  their  manners,  and  relate  their  laws. 

dFutttritg.  —  Shakspeare. 
f\  Heaven !  that  one  might  read  the  Book  of  Fate, 

And  see  the  revolution  of  the  times 
Make  mountains  level,  and  the  continent, 
Weary  of  solid  firmness,  melt  itself 
Into  the  sea. 

Oh,  if  this  were  seen, 
The  happiest  youth, — viewing  his  progress  through, 
What  perils  past,  what  crosses  to  ensue, — 
Would  shut  the  book,  and  sit  him  down  and  die. 

jFuttmtg.— Pope. 

CEE  dying  vegetables  life  sustain, 

See  life  dissolving,  vegetate  again : 
All  forms  tbat  perish  other  forms  supply, 
(By  turns  we  catch  the  vital  breath  and  die,) 
Like  bubbles  on  the  sea  of  matter  borne, 
They  rise,  they  break,  and  to  that  sea  return. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AXD    OLD.  167 

Nothing  is  foreign;   parts  relate  to  whole; 
One  all-extending,  all-preserving  soul 
Connects  each  being,  greatest  with  the  least; 
Made  beast  in  aid  of  man,  and  man  of  beast; 
All  served,  all  serving:  nothing  stands  alone; 
The  chain  holds  on,  and  where  it  ends  unknown. 

©ambling.  —  Lavakr. 

IT  is  possible  that  a  wise  and  good  man  may  be  prevailed  on  to 
game;  but  it  is  impossible  that  a  professed  Gamester  should  be 
a  wise  and  good  man. 

©ambling.  —  Tom  Brown. 
Gaming  finds  man  a  cully,  and  leaves  him  a  knave. 

©ambling.  —  Steele. 

THERE  is  nothing  that  wears  out  a  fine  face  like  the  vigils  of 
the  Card-table,  and  those  cutting  passions  which  naturally 
attend  them.  Hollow  eyes,  haggard  looks,  and  pale  complexions 
are  the  natural  indications  of  a  female  Gamester.  Her  morning 
sleeps  are  not  able  to  repay  her  midnight  watchings. 

©ambling.  —  La  Bruyere. 

AN  assembly  of  the  states,  a  court  of  justice,  shows  nothing  so 

serious  and  grave  as  a  Table  of  Gamesters  playing  very  high ; 

a  melancholy  solicitude  clouds  their  looks;  envy  and  rancour  agitate 

their  minds  while  the  meeting  lasts,  without  regard  to  friendship, 

alliances,  birth,  or  distinctions. 

Game*  anto  Sport*.— FuUer. 

TAKE  heed  to  avoid  all   those  Games  and  Sports  that  are  apt  to 
take  up  much  of  thy  time,  or  engage  thy  affections.      He  that 
spends  all  his  life  in  Sports,  is  like  one  who  wears  nothing  but 
fringes,  and  eats  nothing  but  sauces. 

STfje  (Garden  in  Cotott/—  cbwper. 

~pVN  in  the  stifling  bosom  of  the  Town, 

A  Garden  in  which  nothing  thrives  has  charms 
That  soothe  the  rich  possessor;  much  consoled 
That  here  and  there  some  sprigs  of  mournful  mint, 
Of  nightshade  or  valerian,  grace  the  wall 
He  cultivates. 

&f)e  <B?ag.  —  Cmoper. 
"\VHOM  call  we  gay  ?  That  honour  has  been  long 

The  boast  of  mere  pretenders  to  the  name. 
The  innocent  are  gay — the  Lark  is  gay, 
That  dries  his  feathers  saturate  with  Dew 
Beneath  the  rosy  cloud,  while  yet  the  beams 
Of  Day-spring  overshot  his  humble  nest. 


168  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

4&tnttQ8itgl.  —  Grevffle. 

QNE  great  reason  why  men  practise  Generosity  so  littlo  in  tlie 
world  is,  their  finding  so  little  there  :  Generosity  is  catching  • 
and  if  so  many  men  escape  it,  it  is  in  a  great  degree  from  the  same 
reason  that  countrymen  escape  the  Small-pox, — because  they  meet 
with  no  one  to  give  it  them. 

^zmxmii^  —  Lucan. 

[JNLIKE  the  ribald,  whose  licentious  jest 

Pollutes  his  banquet,  and  insults  his  guest; 
From  wealth  and  grandeur  easy  to  descend, 
Thou  joy'st  to  lose  the  Master  in  the  Friend : 
We  round  thy  Board  the  cheerful  menials  see, 
Gay  with  the  smile  of  bland  Equality  • 
No  social  care  the  gracious  lord  disdains; 
Love  prompts  to  Love,  and  Reverence  Reverence  gains. 

(£etterO0tt;p.  —  Skakspeare. 
Oh  !  the  World  is  but  a  word ; 
Were  it  all  yours,  to  give  it  in  a  breath, 
How  quickly  were  it  gone ! 

(fcetterOSttg.  —  Shakspeare. 

Poor  honest  lord,  brought  low  by  his  own  Heart ; 

Undone  by  Goodness  !  Strange,  unusual  Blood, 

When  Man's  worst  sin  is,  he  does  too  much  Good  ! 

<S*etttU&—  Plautus. 

How  oft  we  see  the  greatest  Genius  buried  in  obscurity. 

<&entUS.—  Anon. 
1  T  is  a  lesson  which  Genius  and  Wisdom  of  every  kind  must  learn, 
that  its  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world.  It  must  learn  to  know 
this,  and  to  be  content  that  this  should  be  so,  to  be  content  with 
the  thought  of  a  Kingdom  in  a  higher,  less  transitory  region.  Then 
perad venture  may  the  saying  be  fulfilled  with  regard  to  it,  that  he 
who  is  ready  to  lose  his  life  shall  save  it.  The  Wisdom  which  aims 
at  something  nobler  and  more  lasting  than  the  Kingdom  of  this 
World,  may  now  and  then  find  that  the  Kingdom  of  this  World 
will  also  fall  into  its  lap. 

(&miM.  —  Anon. 
~pEW  Minds  are  sun-like,  sources  of  light  in  themselves  and  to 
others.  Many  more  are  Moons,  that  shine  with  a  derivative 
and  reflected  light.  Among  the  tests  to  distinguish  them  is  this  : 
the  former  are  always  full,  the  latter  only  now  and  then,  when  their 
Suns  are  shining  full  upon  them. 

(£etttUS.  —  Seneca. 
There  is  no  great  Genius  free  from  some  tincture  of  Madness. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND     OLD.  109 

Genius.  —  Swift. 

\\THEN  a  true  Genius  appears  in  the  world,  you  may  know  him 
by  this  sign,  that  the  Dunces  are  all  in  confederacy  against 
him. 

<&entUS.  —  Sir  J.  Reynolds. 
^[.ENIUS  is  supposed  to  be  a  power  of  producing  excellences  whicli 
are  out  of  the  reach  of  the  rules  of  Art :  a  power  which  no  pre- 
cepts can  teach,  and  which  no  industry  can  acquire. 

(&eni\\8.  —  Aristotle. 
"THERE  is  no  distinguished  Genius  altogether  exempt  from  some 
infusion  of  Madness. 

(SentUS.  —  Cicero. 
TO  be  endowed  with  Strength  by  Nature,  to  be  actuated  by  the 
powers  of  the  Mind,  and  to  have  a  certain  Spirit  almost  Divine 
infused  into  you. 

<&entU!3.  —  Anon. 
SECONDARY  men,  men  of  talents,  may  be  mixed  up,  like  an 
apothecary's  prescription,  of  so  many  grains  of  one  quality,  and 
so  many  of  another.  But  Genius  is  one,  individual,  indivisible  : 
like  a  star,  it  dwells  alone.  That  which  is  essential  in  a  Man  of 
Genius,  his  central  spirit,  shows  itself  once,  and  passes  away  never 
to  return  :  and  in  few  men  is  this  more  conspicuous  than  in  Milton, 
in  whom  there  is  nothing  Homeric,  and  hardly  any  thing  Virgilian 
In  sooth,  one  might  as  accurately  describe  the  elephant,  as  being 
made  up  of  the  force  of  the  lion  and  the  strength  of  the  tiger. 

(Senilis.  —  Coiton. 

THE  greatest  Genius  is  never  so  great,  as  when  it  is  chastised 
and  subdued  by  the  highest  Reason. 

(fetniM.  — Horace. 
He  alone  can  claim  this  name,  who  writes 
With  Fancy  high,  and  bold  and  daring  Flights. 

Senilis.  —  Horace. 
VOUR  friend  is  passionate ;  perhaps  unfit 
For  the  brisk  petulance  of  modern  wit : 
His  hair  ill  cut,  his  robe  that  awkward  flows, 
Or  his  large  shoes,  to  raillery  expose 

The  man 

But  underneath  this  rough,  uncouth  disguise 
A  Genius  of  extensive  Knowledge  lies. 

©enillS.—  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
TALENT,  lying  in  the  Understanding,  is  often  inherited  ;   Genius, 
being  the  action  of  Reason  and  Imagination,  rare!}'  or  never 


l7U         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

©fttUUg.  —  Cicero. 

All  Great  Men  are  in  some  degree  Inspired. 

(SnttUS.  —  Colton. 
T^HE  drafts  which  true  Genius  draws  upon  posterity,  although 
they  may  not  always  be  honoured  so  soon  as  they  are  due,  are 
sure  to  be  paid  with  compound  interest  in  the  end.  Milton's  ex- 
pressions on  his  right  to  this  remuneration,  constitute  some  of  the 
finest  efforts  of  his  mind. 

<SentU0.  —  Lavater. 
HTHE  proportion  of  Genius  to  the  vulgar  is  like  one  to  a  million  ; 
but  Genius  without  Tyranny,  without  Pretension,  that  judges 
the  weak  with  Equity,  the  superior  with   Humanity,  and   equals 
with  Justice,  is  like  one  to  ten  millions. 

<&entUS.  _  Crabbe. 
Q .ENIUS  !  thou  Gift  of  Heaven  !  thou  Light  divine  ! 

Amid  what  dangers  art  thou  doom'd  to  shine  ! 
Oft  will  the  body's  weakness  check  thy  force, 
Oft  damp  thy  Vigour,  and  impede  thy  course ; 
And  trembling  nerves  compel  thee  to  restrain 
Thy  noble  efforts,  to  contend  with  pain ; 
Or  Want  (sad  guest !)  will  in  thy  presence  come, 
And  breathe  around  her  melancholy  gloom ) 
To  life's  low  cares  will  thy  proud  thought  confine, 
And  make  her  sufferings,  her  impatience,  thine. 

(SJentUS.  —  Longfellow. 
1VTEN  of  genius  are  often  dull  and  inert  in  society ;  as  the  blazing 
meteor,  when  it  descends  to  earth,  is  only  a  stone. 

Cf)e  Gentleman.  —  Shaftesbury. 
THHE  taste  of  Beauty,  and  the  relish  of  what  is  decent,  just  and 
amiable,  perfects  the  character  of  the  Gentleman  and  the  Philo- 
sopher. And  the  study  of  such  a  taste  or  relish  will,  as  we  suppose, 
be  ever  the  great  employment  and  concern  of  him  who  covets  as 
well  to  be  wise  and  good,  as  agreeable  and  polite. 

Cfje  Gentleman.— Hare. 

A  CHRISTIAN  is  God  Almighty's  Gentleman  :  a  Gentleman  in 
the  vulgar,  superficial  way  of  understanding  the  word,  is  the 
Devil's  Christian.  But  to  throw  aside  these  polished  and  too  cur- 
rent counterfeits  for  something  valuable  and  sterling,  the  Real  Gen- 
tleman should  be  gentle  in  every  thing,  at  least  in  every  thing  that 
depends  on  himself, — in  carriage,  temper,  constructions,  aims,  de- 
sires. He  ought  therefore  to  be  mild,  calm,  quiet,  even,  temperate, — 
not  hasty  in  judgment,  not  exorbitant  in  ambition,  not  overbearing, 
not  proud,  not  rapacious,  not  oppressive;  for  these  things  are  con 


OR,     THINGS    NEW  AXD     OLD.  171 

trary  to  Gentleness.  Many  such  Gentlemen  are  to  be  found,  I  trust; 
and  many  more  would  be  were  the  true  meaning  of  the  name  borne 
in  mind  and  duly  inculcated. 

Cf)e  Gentleman.  —  Steele. 

TT  is  no  very  uncommon  thing  in  the  World  to  meet  with  Men  of 
Probity ;  there  are  likewise  a  great  many  Men  of  Honour  to  be 
found.  Men  of  Courage,  Men  of  Sense,  and  Men  of  Letters,  are 
frequent ;  but  a  True  Gentleman  is  what  one  seldom  sees.  He  is 
properly  a  compound  of  the  various  good  qualities  that  embellish 
mankind.  As  the  great  poet  animates  all  the  different  parts  of 
learning  by  the  force  of  his  genius,  and  irradiates  all  the  compass 
of  his  knowledge  by  the  lustre  and  brightness  of  his  imagination; 
so  all  the  great  and  solid  perfections  of  life  appear  in  the  Finished 
Gentleman,  with  a  beautiful  gloss  and  varnish;  every  thing  he  says 
or  does  is  accompanied  with  a  manner,  or  rather  a  charm,  that 
draws  the  admiration  and  good-will  of  every  beholder. 

CJ)e  Gentleman.  —  Coiton. 

TTE  that  can  enjoy  the  intimacy  of  the  Great,  and  on  no  occasion 
disgust  them  by  familiarity,  or  disgrace  himself  by  servility, 
proves  that  he  is  as  perfect  a  Gentleman  by  Nature,  as  his  compa- 
nions are  by  Rank. 

GtftS.  —  Shakspeare. 
AND,  with  them,  words  of  so  sweet  breath  composed 
As  made  the  things  more  rich  :  their  perfume  lost, 
Take  these  again ;  for  to  the  noble  mind 
Rich  Gifts  wax  poor,  when  Givers  prove  unkind. 

GtftS.  —  Fuller. 
/^j-lVE  freely  to  him  that  deserveth  well,  and  asketh  nothing  :  and 
that  is  a  way  of  giving  to  thyself. 

GtftS.  —  Seneca. 
There  is  no  grace  in  a  Benefit  that  sticks  to  the  fingers. 

GiftS.  —  Lavater. 
A    GIFT — its  kind,  its  value  and  appearance ;  the  silence  or  the 
pomp  that  attends  it;  the  style  in  which  it  reaches  you,  may 
decide  the  dignity  or  vulgarity  of  the  Giver. 

(QiftZ.  — Ovid. 
"PRESENTS  which  our  love  for  the  Donor  has  rendered  precious 
are  ever  the  most  acceptable. 

GtftS.  —  Cato. 
HTENDER  not  twice  to  any  man  the  Favours  you  may  have  it  in 
your   power  to  confer,  and  be  not  too  loquacious,  while   ycu 
wish  to  be  esteemed  for  your  kindness. 


172  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

vSIon?.  —  B- 

T'HERE  shall  they  rot — ambition's  honour'd  fools. 

Yes.  Honour  decks  the  turf  that  wraps  their  clay  . 
Vain  sophistry  !  in  these  behold  the  tools, 

The  brokeu  tools,  that  tyrants  cast  away 
By  myriads,  when  they  dare  to  pave  their  way 

With  human  hearts — to  what  ? — a  dream  alone. 

OlOn?.  —  Byron. 
"Y^EDALS,  Ranks,  Ribbands,  Lace,  Embroidery,  Scarlet, 

Are  things  immortal  to  a  mortal  man, 
As  purple  to  the  Babylonian  harlot  : 
An  Uniform  to  boys  is  like  a  fan 
To  women  ;  there  is  scarce  a  crimson  varlet 

But  deems  himself  the  first  in  Glory's  van. 
But  Glory's  Glory ;  and  if  you  would  find 
"What  that  is — ask  the  pig  who  sees  the  wind  ! 

t&lOCg.—  Dryden. 
The  brave  abroad  fight  for  the  wise  at  home  : 
You  are  but  camp  chameleons,  fed  with  air ; 
Thin  Fame  is  all  the  bravest  hero's  share. 

ffirtotg.  —  Byron. 

^HE  Groan,  the  Roll  in  Dust,  the  all-white  Eye 

Turn'd  back  within  its  socket,: — these  reward 
Your  rank  and  file  by  thousands,  while  the  rest 
May  win  perhaps  a  Ribbon  at  the  breast. 

GlOCg.—  Cowper. 

T  ET  eternal  infamy  pursue 

The  wretch  to  naught  but  his  Ambition  true, 
Who  for  the  sake  of  filling  with  one  blast 
The  post-horns  of  all  Europe,  lays  her  waste. 

Glorg.—  Byron. 
TV"HAT  boots  the  oft-repeated  tale  of  strife, 

The  feast  of  vultures,  and  the  waste  of  life  ? 
The  varying  fortune  of  each  separate  field, 
The  fierce  that  vanquish,  and  the  faint  that  yield  ? 
The  smoking  ruin  and  the  crumbled  wall  ? 
In  this  the  struggle  was  the  same  with  all. 

Glorp.  —  Young. 
(~)XE  to  destroy  is  murder  by  the  law, 

And  gibbets  keep  the  lifted  hand  in  awe : 
To  murder  thousands  takes  a  specious  name, 
War's  Glorious  art,  and  gives  immortal  Fame. 


OR,    THINGS    NEW  AND    OLD.  173 

<£lorg  (sacking  a  iEitg.)  —  Byron. 

A  LL  that  the  mind  would  shrink  from  of  excesses ; 

All  that  the  body  perpetrates  of  bad  ; 
All  that  we  read,  hear,  dream  of  man's  distresses; 
All  that  the  Devil  would  do  if  run  stark  mad ; 
All  that  defies  the  worst  which  pen  expresses ; 

All  by  which  Hell  is  peopled,  or  as  sad 
As  Hell — mere  mortals  who  their  power  abuse, — 
Was  here  (as  heretofore  and  since)  let  loose. 

(&lCitg.  —  Porteus. 

Whole  kingdoms  fell 
To  sate  the  Lust  of  Power  :  more  horrid  still, 
The  foulest  stain  and  scandal  of  our  nature 
Became  its  boast.     One  murder  made  a  villain ; 
Millions  a  Hero. 
Numbers  sanctified  the  crime. 

(kiOtg.  —  Byron. 
J^NOUGH  of  battle's  minions  !  let  them  play 

Their  game  of  lives,  and  barter  breath  for  Fame ; 
Fame  that  will  scarce  reanimate  their  clay, 

Though  thousands  fall  to  deck  some  single  name. 
In  ^ootb  'twere  sad  to  thwart  their  noble  aim, 
Who  strike,  blest  hirelings  !  for  their  country's  good, 
And  die,  that  living  might  have  proved  her  shame. 

(Sluq).  —  Cicero. 
nTRUE  Glory  takes  root,  and  even  spreads :  all  false  pretences, 
like  flowers,  fall  to  the  ground;  nor  can  any  counterfeit  last 
long. 

(Glorg.—  Wayland. 
'THE  aged  crone,  or  the  smooth-tongued  beadle,  as  now  he  hurries 
you  through  aisles  and  chapel,  utters,  with  measured  cadence  and 
unmeaning  tone,  for  the  thousandth  time,  the  name  and  lineage  of 
the  once  honoured  dead ;  and  then  gladly  dismisses  you,  to  repeat 
again  his  well-conned  lesson  to  another  group  of  idle  passers-by. 
Such,  in  its  most  august  form,  is  all  the  immortality  that  matter 

can  confer It  is  by  what  we  ourselves  have  done,  and  not  by 

what  others  have  done  for  us,  that  we  shall  be  remembered  by  after 
ages.  It  is  by  thought  that  has  aroused  my  intellect  from  its 
slumbers,  which  has  "  given  lustre  to  virtue,  and  dignity  to  truth," 
or  by  those  examples  which  have  inflamed  my  soul  with  the  love  of 
goodness,  and  not  by  means  of  sculptured  marble,  that  I  hold  com- 
munion with  Shakspeare  and  Milton,  with  Johnson  and  Burke,  with 
Howard  and  Wilberforce. 


174  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Cf)e  ©lUttOn.  —  Shahspeare. 
Fat  Paunches  have  lean  Pates ;  and  dainty  Bits 
Make  rich  the  ribs,  but  bank'rout  quite  the  Wits. 

Cf)e  <&lumn.— Joanna  Baillie. 
Some  men  are  born  to  feast,  and  not  to  fight ; 
Whose  sluggish  Minds,  e'en  in  fair  Honour's  field, 
Still  on  their  Dinner  turn. 

€f)e  Glutton.  —  Milton. 

Swinish  Gluttony 
Ne'er  looks  to  Heaven  amidst  his  gorgeous  Feast, 
But  with  besotted,  base  ingratitude 
Crams,  and  blasphemes  his  feeder. 

2Tf)e  (felUttim.— Juvenal. 
Such,  whose  sole  bliss  is  eating,  who  can  give 
But  that  one  brutal  reason  why  they  live. 

Cf)e  <&luttOtt.  —  South. 
TTE  that  prolongs  his  Meals,  and  sacrifices  his  time,  as  well  as 
his  other  conveniences,  to  his  Luxury,  how  quickly  does  he 
outset  his  pleasure  !  And  then,  how  is  all  the  following  time  be- 
stowed upon  Ceremony  and  Surfeit !  until  at  length,  after  a  long 
fatigue  of  eating,  and  drinking,  and  babbling,  he  concludes  the 
great  work  of  dining  genteelly,  and  so  makes  a  shift  to  rise  from 
table,  that  he  may  lie  down  upon  his  bed;  where,  after  he  has  slept 
himself  into  some  use  of  himself,  by  much  ado  he  staggers  to  his 
table  again,  and  there  acts  over  the  same  brutish  scene  :  so  that  he 
passes  his  whole  life  in  a  dozed  condition,  between  sleeping  and 
waking,  with  a  kind  of  drowsiness  and  confusion  upon  his  senses, 
which  what  pleasure  it  can  be,  is  hard  to  conceive.  All  that  is  of 
it,  dwells  upon  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  and  within  the  compass  of  his 
palate.  A  worthy  prize  for  a  man  to  purchase  with  the  loss  of  his 
time,  his  reason,  and  himself. 

(E^Oti.  —Horace. 
"\\THO  guides  below,  and  rules  above, 

The  great  Disposer,  and  the  mighty  King; 
Than  He  none  greater,  next  Him  none, 
That  can  be,  is,  or  was  : 
Supreme  He  singly  fills  the  Throne. 

(ErCltr.  —  Boeihius. 
Z^-IVE  me,  0  Father,  to  thy  throne  access, 

Unshaken  seat  of  endless  happiness  ! 
Give  me,  unvail'd,  the  Source  of  Good  to  see  ! 
Give  me  Thy  light,  and  fix  mine  eyes  on  Thee  ! 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  175 

(ErOtf.  — Jacobi. 
TITHAT  is  there  in  Man  so  worthy  of  honour  and  reverence  as 
this, — that  he  is  capable  of  contemplating  something  higher 
than  his  own  reason,  more  sublime  than  the  whole  universe;  that 
Spirit  which  alone  is  self-subsistent,  from  which  all  truth  proceeds, 
without  which  is  no  truth  ? 

ingratitude  tO  (Soft.  —  Seneca. 
"VTTE  can   be   thankful    to   a  friend   for  a  few  acres,  or  a  little 
money ;   and  yet  for  the  freedom  and  command  of  the  whole 
earth,  and  for  the  great  benefits  of  our  Being,  our  Life,  Health, 
and  Reason,  we  look  upon  ourselves  as  under  no  obligation. 

©oVg  beneficence.  —  Burke. 

'THOSE  things  that  are  not  practicable,  are  not  desirable.  There 
is  nothing  in  the  world  really  beneficial,  that  does  not  lie 
within  the  reach  of  an  informed  understanding  and  a  w*  11-directed 
pursuit.  There  is  nothing  that  God  has  judged  good  for  us,  that 
He  has  not  given  us  the  means  to  accomplish,  both  in  the  natural 
and  the  moral  world. 

ittOCfcinfl  <5lrtl.—  Casaubon. 
TT  is  a  common  frenzy  of  the  ignorant  multitude,  to  be  always 
engaging  Heaven  on  their  side ;  and  indeed  it  is  a  successful 
stratagem  of  any  general  to  gain  authority  among  his  soldiers,  if 
he  can  persuade  them  he  is  the  man  by  Fate  appointed  for  such  or 
such  an  action,  though  most  impracticable. 

(GOVS  \tititt1SUW.  —  Shahspeare. 
VOU  snatch  some  hence  for  little  faults ;  that's  love, 

To  have  them  fall  no  more  :  you  some  permit 
To  second  ills  with  ills,  each  elder  worse ; 
And  make  them  dread  it  to  the  doer's  thrift. 

£ttiVLQ  <&0u\  —  SchleiermacTier. 
T  ET  the  majestic  serenity  with  which  you  estimate  the  great 
and  the  small,  prove  that  you  refer  every  thing  to  the  Immu- 
table,— that  you  perceive  the  Godhead  alike  in  every  thing;  let  the 
bright  cheerfulness  with  which  you  encounter  every  proof  of  our 
transitory  nature,  reveal  to  all  men  that  you  live  above  time  and 
above  the  world ;  let  your  easy  and  graceful  self-denial  prove  how 
many  of  the  bonds  of  egotism  you  have  already  broken ;  and  let 
the  ever  quick  and  open  spirit  from  which  neither  what  is  rarest 
nor  most  ordinary  escapes,  show  with  what  unwearied  ardour  ycu 
seek  for  every  trace  of  the  Godhead,  with  what  eagerness  you 
watch  for  its  slightest  manifestation.  If  your  whole  life,  and  every 
movement  of  your  outward  and  inward  being,  is  thus  guided  by 
religion,  perhaps  the  hearts  of  many  will  be  touched  by  this  mute 


176  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

language,  and  will  open  to  the  reception  of  that  spirit  which  dwells 
within  you. 

00  ft.  —  Shakspeare. 
Foul-cankertng  rust  the  hidden  Treasure  frets; 
But  Gold,  that's  put  to  use,  more  Gold  begets. 

00ft.  —  Shakspeare. 
Oh,  what  a  world  of  vile  ill-favour' d  faults 
Looks  handsome  in  Three  Hundred  Pounds  a  year. 

00ft.  —  Shakspeare. 

Why  this 
Will  lug  your  priests  and  servants  from  your  sides ; 
Pluck  stout  men's  pillows  from  below  their  heads  : 
This  Yellow  Slave 

Will  knit  and  break  religions )  bless  the  accursed ; 
Make  the  hoar  leprosy  adored;  place  thieves, 
And  give  them  title,  knee,  and  approbation, 
With  senators  on  the  bench. 

This  is  it, 
That  makes  the  wappen'd  widow  wed  again  : 
She,  whom  the  spital-house  and  ulcerous  sores 
Would  cast  the  gorge  at,  this  embalms  and  spices 
To  the  April  day  again. 
For  this,  the  foolish  over-careful  fathers 
Have  broke  their  sleep  with  thoughts,  their  brains  with  care, 
Their  bones  with  industry. 

(ElCft.  —  Shakspeare. 
'THERE  is  thy  Gold ;  worse  Poison  to  men's  souls, 

Doing  more  murders  in  this  loathsome  world, 
Than  these  poor  compounds  that  thou  may'st  not  sell : 
I  sell  thee  Poison,  thou  hast  sold  me  none. 

<&0  ft.  —  Shakspeare. 
C\  THOU  sweet  King-killer,  and  dear  Divorce 

'Twixt  natural  son  and  sire  !  thou  bright  Defiler 
Of  Hymen's  purest  bed  !  thou  valiant  Mars  ! 
Thou  ever  young,  fresh,  loved,  and  delicate  Wooer, 
Whose  blush  doth  thaw  the  consecrated  snow 
That  lies  on  Dian's  lap !  thou  visible  God, 
That  solder'st  close  impossibilities, 

And  makest  them  kiss !  that  speak'st  with  every  tongue, 
To  every  purpose  !     0  thou  Touch  of  Hearts  ! 
Think,  thy  slave  Man  lebels;  and  by  thy  virtue 
Set  them  into  confounding  odds,  that  beasts 
May  have  the  world  in  empire  ! 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  ITT 


(HottJ.  —  Shdkspeare. 
How  quickly  nature 
Falls  to  revolt,  when  Gold  becomes  her  object ! 

(Soft.  —  Addison. 
A  MAN  who  is  furnished  with  arguments  from  the  Mint,  will 
convince  his  antagonist  much  sooner  than  one  who  draws  them 
from  Reason  and  Philosophy.  Gold  is  a  wonderful  clearer  of  the 
understanding;  it  dissipates  every  doubt  and  scruple  in  an  instant ; 
accommodates  itself  to  the  meanest  capacities  ;  silences  the  loud 
and  clamorous,  and  brings  over  the  most  obstinate  and  inflexible. 
Philip  of  Macedon  was  a  man  of  most  invincible  reason  this  way. 
He  refuted  by  it  all  the  wisdom  of  Athens,  confounded  their  states- 
men, struck  their  orators  dumb,  and  at  length  argued  them  out  of 
all  their  liberties. 

i^OltJ.  —  Sliakspeare. 
^J-IVE  him  Gold  enough,  and  marry  him  to  a  puppet,  or  an  aglet- 
baby  ;  or  an  old  trot  with  ne'er  a  tooth  in  her  head,  though 
she  have  as  many  diseases  as  two  and  fifty  horses  j  why,  nothing 
comes  amiss,  so  money  comes  withal. 

<80ttJ.—  Dekker. 
TTE  that  upon  his  back  Rich  Garments  wears, 

Is  wise,  though  on  his  head  grow  Midas'  ears : 
Gold  is  the  strength,  the  sinews  of  the  world ; 
The  health,  the  soul,  the  beauty  most  divine ; 
A  mask  of  Gold  hides  all  deformities ; 
Gold  is  Heaven's  Physic,  Life's  Restorative. 

0Olu\  —  Massinger. 
Here's  music 
In  this  Bag  shall  wake  her,  though  she  had  drunk  opium, 

Or  eaten  mandrakes. 

***** 

The  Picklock 
That  never  fails. 

<^0rtJ. — Johnson. 
The  lust  of  Gold  succeeds  the  lust  of  conquests ; 
The  lust  of  Gold,  unfeeling  and  remorseless, 
The  last  corruption  of  degenerate  Man. 

<&0ltl.  —  Shakspeare. 
'JTIAT  Broker,  that  still  breaks  the  pate  of  Faith ; 

That  daily  Break-vow ;  he  that  wins  of  all, 
Of  kings,  of  beggars,  old  men,  young  men,  maids — 
Who  having  no  external  thing  to  lose 
But  the  word  Maid, — cheats  the  poor  maid  of  that. 


178  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 


(KOHL  —  Shakspeare. 
'Tis  Gold 
Which  buys  admittance,  (oft  it  doth,)  yea,  makes 
Diana's  rangers,  false  themselves,  yield  up 
Their  deer  to  th'  stand  o'  th'  stealer  :  and  'tis  Gold 
"Which  makes  the  true  man  kill'd,  and  saves  the  thief; 
Nay,  sometimes,  hangs  both  thief  and  true  man  :  what 
Can  it  not  do,  and  undo  ? 

<£ottf»  —  Horace. 
gTRONGER  than  Thunder's  winged  force, 
All-powerful  Gold  can  spread  its  course, 
Through  watchful  guards  its  passage  make 
And  loves  through  solid  walls  to  break : 
From  Gold  the  overwhelming  woes 
That  crush'd  the  Grecian  augur  rose  : 
Philip-  with  Gold  through  Cities  broke, 
And  rival  Monarchs  felt  his  yoke. 

©Oft.—  Anon. 
J^PICHARMUS,  indeed,  calls  the  Winds,  the  Water,  the  Earth, 
the  Sun,  the  Fire,  and  the  Stars,  Gods.  But  I  am  of  opinion, 
that  Gold  and  Silver  are  our  only  powerful  and  propitious  Deities. 
For  when  once  you  have  introduced  these  into  your  house,  wish  for 
what  you  will,  you  shall  quickly  obtain  it ;  an  Estate,  a  Habita- 
tion, Servants,  Plate,  Friends,  Judges,  Witnesses. 

<£0ltf.—  Colton 
'THERE  are  two  Metals,  one  of  which  is  omnipotent  in  the  Cabi- 
net, and  the  other  in  the  Camp, — Gold  and  Iron.     He  that 
knows  how  to  apply  them  both,  may  indeed  attain  the  highest  sta- 
tion, but  he  must  know  something  more  to'  keep  it. 

<&00tJ  from  JftM.— Goldsmith. 
T?EAR  guides  more  to  their  duty  than  Gratitude ;  for  one  Man 
who  is  virtuous  from  the  Love  of  Virtue,  from  the  obligation 
which  he  thinks  he  lies  under  to  the  Giver  of  all,  there  are  ten  thou- 
sand who  are  good  only  from  their  Apprehensions  of  Punishment. 

HBrjtng  <&00tJ.  —  Seneca. 
T-TE  that  does  Good  to  another  man,  does  also  Good  to  himself; 
not  only  in  the  consequence,  but  in  the  very  act  of  doing  it; 
for  the  Conscience  of  well-doing  is  an  ample  reward. 

BO  trig  <£00t(.  —  Shaftesbury. 
"^"EVER  did  any  soul  do  Good,  but  it  came  readier  to  do  the  same 
again,  with  more  enjoyment.     Never  was  Love,  or  Gratitude, 
or  Bounty  practised  but  with  increasing  Joy,  which  made  the  prac- 
tiser  still  more  in  love  with  the  fair  act. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  170 

BOtltg  tSGOtl.  —  Cicero. 
TX  nothing  do  men  approach  so  nearly  to  the  Gods,  as  in  giving 
health  to  men. 

DOtTtg  ©OOtr.  —  La  Bruyere. 

TTE  is  Good  that  does  Good  to  others.  If  he  suffers  for  the  Good 
he  does,  he  is  better  still ;  and  if  he  suffers  from  them  to  whom 
he  did  Good,  he  is  arrived  to  that  height  of  Goodness,  that  nothing 
but  an  increase  of  his  sufferings  can  add  to  it :  if  it  proves  his  death, 
his  Virtue  is  at  its  summit;  it  is  Heroism  complete. 

SootJ  an*  EUdFottune.  —  Anon. 

\\TE  often  live  under  a  Cloud ;  and  it  is  well  for  us  that  we  should 
do  so.  Uninterrupted  Sunshine  would  parch  our  hearts :  we 
want  Shade  and  Rain  to  cool  and  refresh  them.  Only  it  behooves 
us  to  take  care,  that,  whatever  Cloud  may  be  spread  over  us,  it 
should  be  a  Cloud  of  Witnesses.  And  every  Cloud  may  be  such, 
if  we  can  only  look  through  to  the  Sunshine  that  broods  behind  it. 

<&0fjtJ  Ji)UmOUr.—  Greville. 
£J.OOD  Humour  will  sometimes  conquer  111  Humour,  but  111  Hu- 
mour will  conquer  it  oftener;  and  for  this  plain  reason,  Good 
Humour  must  operate  on  Generosity;  111  Humour  on  Meanness. 

i^XtCCme  (£00tJ  Nature.  —  Terence. 
^yH AT  shall  we  call  it  ?  Folly,  or  Good  Nature  ? 

So  soft,  so  simple,  and  so  kind  a  creature  ! 
Where  Charity  so  blindly  plays  its  part, 
It  only  shows  the  weakness  of  her  heart. 

(SOOtmeSS.  —  Anon. 
THRUE  Goodness  is  like  the  glowworm  in  this,  that  it  shines  most 
when  no  eyes,  except  those  of  Heaven,  are  upon  it. 

(GOOtmeSS.  —  Bishop  Hall. 
A    GOOD  Man  is  kinder  to  his  Enemy  than  Bad  Men  are  to  their 
Friends. 

<&00ti  aittJ  yZkiX.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
ClOME  Bad  People  would  be  less  dangerous  if  they  had  not  some 
Goodness. 

<£00}l  aittl  ISbtl La  Rochefoucauld. 

"^"0  man  deserves  to  be  praised  for  his  Goodness  unless  he  ha.s 
strength  of  character  to  be  wicked. 

(£00ti  atttJ  32utL  —  Shakspeare. 
TN  Nature,  there's  no  blemish,  but  the  Mind  ; 

None  can  be  call'd  deform'd,  but  the  unkind  ; 
Virtue  is  beauty  ;  but  the  beauteous  evil 
Are  empty  trunks,  o'erflourish'd  by  the  Devil. 
Q2 


180  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

0COtJ  anil  ISSsiL—Lord  Bacon. 
HTHE  Rabbins  note  a  principle  of  nature,  that  putrefaction  is 
more  dangerous  before  maturity  than  after,  and  another  noteth 
a  position  in  moral  philosophy,  that  men  abandoned  to  Vice  do  not 
so  much  corrupt  manners  as  those  that  are  half  Good  and  half 
Evil. 

(Booli  atttr  lEhi\.—Anon. 

'THE  difference  between  those  whom  the  World  esteems  as  Good, 
and  those  whom  it  condemns  as  Bad,  is  in  many  cases  little  else 
than  that  the  former  have  been  better  sheltered  from  temptation. 

(BOOti  aitll  W&\L—Anon. 
r^PEN  Evil  at  all  events  does  this  Good :  it  keeps  Good  on  the 
alert.     When  there  is  no  likelihood  of  an  enemy's  approach- 
ing, the  garrison  slumber  on  their  post. 

(gfJOll  antl  WbiL  —  Shakspeare. 
"\7"IRTUE,  as  it  never  will  be  moved, 

Though  Lewdness  court  it  in  a  shape  of  Heaven ; 
So  Lust,  though  to  a  radiant  angel  link'd, 
Will  sate  itself  in  a  celestial  bed, 
And  prey  on  garbage. 

<500lf  antl  W&iL  —  Shakspeare. 
There  is  some  Soul  of  Goodness  in  things  Evil, 
Would  men  observingly  distil  it  out. 

(Bool*  anil  ISbtl.  —  Cotton. 
XTATURAL  Good  is  so  intimately  connected  with  Moral  Good, 
and  Natural  Evil  with  Moral  Evil,  that  I  am  as  certain  as  if  I 
heard  a  voice  from  Heaven  proclaim  it,  that  God  is  on  the  side  of 
Virtue.  He  has  learnt  much,  and  has  not  lived  in  vain,  who  has 
practically  discovered  that  most  strict  and  necessary  connection, 
that  does,  and  will  ever  exist,  between  Vice  and  Misery,  and  Virtue 
and  Happiness. 

(grjOlf  anil  ISbiL  —  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
A  S  there  is  much  Beast  and  some  Devil  in  Man,  so  is  there  some 
Angel  and  some  God  in  him.     The  Beast  and  the  Devil  may 
be  conquered,  but  in  this  life  never  destroyed. 

<§fJ0ll  antJ  lEbtl.—  Hare. 
TT  is  a  proof  of  our  natural  bias  to  Evil,  that  gain  is  slower  and 
harder  than  loss,  in  all  things  Good :  but  in  all  things  bad, 
getting  is  quicker  and  easier  than  getting  rid  of. 

(BOOtJ  anil  ISbtL  —  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
'THE  history  of  all  the  World  tells  us,  that  Immoral  Means  will 
ever  intercept  Good  Ends. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  181 

<£ootr  antf  l£h\L  —  Anon. 

TTE  who  has  observed  how  throughout  History,  while  Man  is  con- 
tinually misusing  Good,  and  turning  it  into  Evil,  the  overruling 
sway  of  God's  Providence  Out  of  Evil  is  ever  bringing  forth  Good, 
will  never  be  cast  down,  or  led  to  despond,  or  to  slacken  his  efforts, 
however  untoward  the  immediate  aspect  of  things  may  appear. 
For  he  will  know  that,  whenever  he  is  labouring  in  the  cause  of 
Heaven,  the  powers  of  Heaven  are  working  with  him  ;  that,  though 
the  Good  he  is  aiming  at  may  not  be  attainable  in  the  very  form 
he  has  in  view,  the  ultimate  result  will  assuredly  be  Good ;  that, 
were  man  diligent  in  fulfilling  his  part,  this  result  would  be  im- 
mediate ;  and  that  no  one  who  is  thus  diligent  shall  lose  his 
precious  reward,  of  seeing  that  every  Good  Deed  is  a  part  of  the 
life  of  the  world. 

(Dootl  arib  ISbtL  —  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
Good  and  Bad  Men  are  each  less  so  than  they  seem. 

CSnnfc  atttl  IB^iL—  Sterne. 
V\TE  are  born  to  Trouble  ;  and  we  may  depend  upon  it  whilst  we 
live  in  this  world  we  shall  have  it,  though  with  intermissions: 
that  is,  in  whatever  state  we  are,  we  shall  find  a  mixture  of  Good 
and  Evil;  and  therefore  the  true  way  to  Contentment  is  to  know 
how  to  receive  these  certain  vicissitudes  of  life, — the  returns  of 
Good  and  Evil,  so  as  neither  to  be  exalted  by  the  one,  or  over- 
thrown by  the  other,  but  to  bear  ourselves  toward  every  thing 
which  happens  with  such  ease  and  indifference  of  mind,  as  tc 
hazard  as  little  as  may  be. 

d3ootj  an*  iSbtL— Milton. 

fZ[-OOD  and  Evil,  we  know,  in  the  field  of  this  world  grow  up  to- 
gether almost  inseparably :  and  the  Knowledge  of  Good  is  so  in- 
volved and  interwoven  with  the  Knowledge  of  Evil,  and  in  so  many 
cunning  resemblances  hardly  to  be  discerned,  that  those  confused 
seeds  which  were  imposed  upon  Psyche  as  an  incessant  labour  to 
cull  out  and  sort  asunder,  were  not  more  intermixed.  It  was 
from  out  the  rind  of  one  Apple  tasted,  that  the  Knowledge  of 
Good  and  Evil,  as  two  Twins  cleaving  together,  leaped  forth  into 
the  world. 

(SoOfc  tot  W&iL  —  Shdkspeare. 
'THE  strawberry  grows  underneath  the  nettle, 

And  wholesome  berries  thrive,  and  ripen  best, 
Neighbour'd  by  fruit  of  baser  quality : 
And  so  the  Prince  obscured  his  contemplation 
Under  the  vail  of  wildness;  which,  no  doubt, 
Grew  like  the  summer  grass,  fastest  by  night, 
T.Tnseen,  yet  crescive  in  his  faculty. 


182  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 


<&OCrtf  for  WbXL—Tillotson. 
A    MORE  glorious  victory  cannot  be  gained  over  another  man 
than  this,  that  when  the  Injury  began  on  his  part,  the  Kind- 
ness should  begin  on  ours. 

<B*00tetotll.  —  Seneca. 
rrHE  Good-will  of  the  benefactor  is  the  fountain  of  all  Benefits; 
nay,  it  is  the  Benefit  itself;  or,  at  least,  the  stamp  that  makes 
it  valuable  and  current. 

Cf)e   ©OJSStp,  —  Zimmerman. 
]^EWS-HUNTERS    have    great    Leisure,   with    little   Thought; 
much  petty  Ambition  to  be  thought  intelligent,  without  any 
other  pretension  than  being  able  to  communicate  what  they  have 
just  learnt. 

(ffiobentmg*— sddm. 

They  that  govern  most  make  least  noise. 

<£obemmg.  —  Steele. 

TF  the  Commission  of  the  Peace  finds  out  the  true  Gentleman,  he 
faithfully   dischargeth  it.     I  say  finds  him  out;   for  a  public 
office  is  a  Guest,  which  receives  the  best  usage  from  them  who 
never  invited  it. 

<&obentment.— Livy. 

T\^HEN  Tarquin  the  Proud  was  asked  what  was  the  best  mode 
of  governing  a  conquered  City,  he  replied  only  by  beating 
down  with  his  Staff  all  the  tallest  Poppies  in  his  Garden. 

(KOuenttttent.  —  Shakspeare. 
'THIS  might  have  been  prevented,  and  made  whole, 

With  very  easy  Arguments  of  Love : 
Which  now  the  Manage  of  two  kingdoms  must 
With  fearful  bloody  Issue  arbitrate. 

<£obernment  —  Hare. 

J^  STATESMAN,  we   are   told,  should   follow  Public  Opinion. 
Doubtless  ...  as  a  Coachman  follows  his  horses;   having  firm 
hold  on  the  Reins,  and  guiding  them. 

Ckcbenrment.  —  Cowper. 

COME  seek  Diversion  in  the  tented  field, 

And  make  the  sorrows  of  mankind  their  Sport. 
But  War's  a  Game,  which,  were  their  subjects  wise, 
Kings  should  not  play  at.     Nations  would  do  well 
T'  extort  their  truncheons  from  the  puny  hands 
Of  Heroes,  whose  infirm  and  baby  minds 
Are  gratified  with  mischief,  and  who  spoil 
Because  men  suffer  it,  their  toy  the  World. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  183 

(J&obentment.  —  Coiton. 

OUR  Constitution  is  the  proudest  political  Monument  of  the  com- 
bined and  progressive  wisdom  of  Man;  throughout  the  whole 
civilized  World  its  preservation  ought  to  be  prayed  for,  as  a  choice 
and  peerless  Model,  uniting  all  the  beauties  of  proportion  with  all 
the  solidity  of  strength.  But  nothing  human  is  perfect,  and  expe- 
rience has  shown  that  this  proud  Monument  of  human  Wisdom 
wants  that  which  its  earlier  designers  had  conceived  that  it  pos- 
sessed; a  self-preserving  power.  Those,  therefore,  are  its  truest 
friends  who  are  most  vigilant  and  unremitting  in  their  efforts  to 
keep  it  from  Corruption,  and  to  guard  it  from  Decay ;  whose  vene- 
ration, as  it  regards  what  it  has  been,  and  whose  affection,  as  it  relates 
to  what  it  may  be,  is  exceeded  only  by  their  fears  for  its  safety, 
when  they  reflect  what  it  is. 

©Obemmettt.  —  Montaigne. 
THERE  is  little  less  trouble  in  forming  a  private  Family  than  a 
whole  Kingdom  :  wherever  the  mind  is  perplexed,  it  is  an  entire 
disorder,  and  domestic  Employments  are  not  less  troublesome  for 
being  less  important. 

<£0bernment.  —  Shakspeare. 
With  common  men 
There  needs  too  oft  the  Show  of  War  to  keep 
The  Substance  of  sweet  Peace;  and  for  a  King, 
;Tis  sometimes  better  to  be  fear'  \  than  loved. 

•  Sobewmettt.  —  Slidkspeare. 
rTHE  Providence,  that's  in  a  watchful  State, 

Knows  almost  every  grain  of  Pluto's  Gold ; 
Finds  bottom  in  th'  uncomprehensive  Deep; 
Keeps  place  with  thought;  and  almost,  like  the  Gods, 
Does  even  our  thoughts  unveil  in  their  dumb  cradles: 
There  is  a  Mystery  (with  which  relation 
Durst  never  meddle)  in  the  Soul  of  State; 
Which  hath  an  operation  more  divine, 
Than  breath,  or  pen,  can  give  expressure  to. 

<£obewment  —  Anon. 

HTIIE  true  Reformer  is  he  who  creates  new  Institutions,  and  gives 
them  life  and  energy,  and  trusts  to  them  for  throwing  off  such 
evil  humours  as  may  be  lying  in  the  Body  Politic.  The  true 
Reformer  is  the  seminal  Reformer,  not  the  radical.  And  this  is 
the  way  the  Sower,  who  went  forth  to  sow  His  seed,  did  really 
reform  the  World,  without  making  any  open  assault  to  uproot  what 
Was  already  existing. 


184  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 

<&Obernmmt.  —  Seneca. 
He  who  too  much  fears  Hatred,  is  unfit  to  reign. 

<^0b  eminent.  —  Shakspeare. 
^HE  still  and  mental  Parts, 

That  do  contrive  how  many  hands  shall  strike, 
When  Fitness  call  them  on,  and  know  by  measure 
Of  their  observant  toil,  the  enemies'  weight ; 
Why,  this  hath  not  a  finger's  dignity ; 
They  call  this  bed-work  Mapp'ry,  closet  War; 
So  that  the  Ram,  that  batters  down  the  wall, 
For  the  great  swing  and  rudeness  of  his  poise, 
They  place  before  his  Hand  that  made  the  Engine : 
Or  those  that  with  the  Fineness  of  their  Souls 
By  reason  guide  his  Execution. 

©obcrnment.  — Pope. 

A    KING  may  be  a  tool,  a  thing    of  straw ;    but  if  he  serves 
to  frighten  our  enemies,  and  secure  our  property,  it  is  well 
enough:  a  Scarecrow  is  a  thing  of  straw,  but  it  protects  the  Corn. 

(kobcrnment,— Anon. 

TT  is  a  dangerous  thing  to  try  new  Experiments  in  a  Govern- 
ment :  Men  do  not  foresee  the  ill  consequences  that  must  happen, 
when  they  go  about  to  alter  the  essential  parts  of  it  upon  which 
the  whole  Frame  depends  :  for  all  Governments  are  artificial  things, 
and  every  part  of  them  bar  a  dependence  one  upon  another. 

<£obcm  tetlt  —  Shakspeare. 

If  we  cannot  defend  our  own  door  from  the  Dog, 
Let  us  be  worried ;  and  our  nation  lose 
The  name  of  Hardiness  and  Policy. 

(kcbenunent  —  Coiton. 

TN  all  Governments,  there  must  of  necessity  be  both  the  Law  and 
the  Sword :  Laws  without  Arms  would  give  us  not  Liberty,  but 
Licentiousness;  and  Arms  without  Laws,  would  produce  not  Sub- 
jection, but  Slavery. 

<£nbetnment,  _  Montesquieu. 
f^HANCE,  or  as  it  is  here  termed,  Fortune,  does  not  govern  the 
world.  The  truth  of  this  position  might  be  referred  to  the 
Romans,  who  enjoyed  a  continued  course  of  Prosperity  while  their 
Government  was  conducted  on  a  certain  plan,  and  an  uninterrupted 
series  of  Reverses  when  they  adopted  a  different  one.  There 
always  exist  certain  general  causes,  either  moral  or  physical,  which 
act  upon  the  affairs  of  every  Monarchy,  raise  it  to  grandeur, 
support  it  in  its  prosperity,  or  precipitate  it  to  its  decadence  or 
dissolution. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  185 

(frobenrmcnt.—  Coiton. 

TT  is  an  easjr  work  to  govern  wise  men,  but  to  govern  Fools  or 
madmen,  a  continual  Slavery.  It  is  from  the  blind  zeal  and 
stupidity  cleaving  to  Superstition,  it  is  from  the  ignorance,  rashness, 
and  rage  attending  Faction,  that  so  many  mad  and  so  sanguinary 
Evils  have  destroyed  men,  dissolved  the  best  Governments,  and 
thinned  the  greatest  Nations.  As  a  people  well  instructed  will 
certainly  esteem  the  blessings  they  enjoy,  and  study  public  Peace 
for  their  own  sake,  there  is  a  great  merit  in  instructing  the  people 
and  cultivating  their  understandings.  They  are  certainly  less 
credulous  in  proportion  as  they  are  more  knowing,  and  conse- 
quently less  liable  to  be  the  dupes  of  Demagogues  and  the  property 
of  Ambition.  They  are  not  then  to  be  surprised  with  false  cries, 
nor  animated  by  imaginary  danger.  And  wherever  the  under- 
standing is  well  principled  and  informed,  the  passions  will  be 
tame,  and  the  heart  well  disposed.  They,  therefore,  who  com- 
municate  true  Knowledge  to  their  species,  are  true  Friends  to  the 
World,  Benefactors  to  Society,  and  deserve  all  encouragement  from 
those  who  preside  over  Society,  with  the  applause  and  good  wishes 
of  all  good  and  honest  men. 

(SrObernment.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
THE    display  of  Clemency  by  Princes    is,  not   unfrequcntly,  a 
political  Manoeuvre  to  gain  the  affections  of  the  People. 

(KrjbentmCttt.  —  Skakspeare. 
TT  is  most  meet  we  arm  us  'gainst  the  foe  : 

For  Peace  itself  should  not  so  dull  a  Kingdom, 
(Though  war,  nor  no  known  quarrel,  were  in  question,) 
But  that  Defences,  musters,  preparations, 
Should  be  maintain'd,  assembled,  and  collected, 
As  were  a  War  in  expectation. 

<&Obentment.  —  Cornelius  Nepos. 
THE  Power  is  detested,  and  miserable  is  the  life,  of  him  wh'. 
wishes  rather  to  be  feared  than  to  be  loved. 

(Sobemmcnt .—  Skakspeare. 
TT  is  a  purposed  thing,  and  grows  by  plot, 

To  curb  the  Will  of  the  Nobility  : 
Suffer  it,  and  live  with  such  as  cannot  rule, 
Nor  ever  will  be  ruled. 

©Obernment  —  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
4    MAN  must  first  govern   himself,  ere  he  be    fit   to  govern   a 
Family ;  and  his  Family,  ere  he  be  fit  to  bear  the  Government 
in  the  Commonwealth. 


186  ILLUSTRATIONS.    OF    TRUTH; 

(Sobernment.—  Hare. 

TN  times  of  public  Dissatisfaction  add  readily,  to  gratify  men's 
wishes.  So  the  change  be  made  without  trepidation,  there  is 
no  contingent  danger  in  the  changing.  But  it  is  difficult  to 
diminish  safely,  except  in  times  of  perfect  quiet.  The  first  is 
giving;  the  last  is  giving  up. 

(Gobemment.  —  Shakspeare. 
I^JOW  call  we  our  high  court  of  Parliament; 

And  let  us  choose  such  limbs  of  noble  Counsel, 
That  the  great  body  of  our  State  may  go 
In  equal  rank  with  the  best-govern' d  Nation. 

(kobeWtnent.  —  Rousseau. 
THE  science  of  Government  is  merely  a  science  of  combinations, 
of  applications,  and  of  exceptions,  according  to  time,  place,  and 
circumstances. 

(Gobemmettt  —  Shakspeare, 
Thus  we  debase 
The  nature  of  our  Seats,  and  make  the  rabble 
Call  our  Cares,  fears  j  which  will  in  time  break  ope 
The  locks  o'  the  Senate,  and  bring  in  the  Crows 
To  peck  the  Eagles. 

(fccbernment.—  Burke. 

"DEFINED  Policy  ever  has  been  the  parent  of  Confusion;  and 
ever  will  be  so,  as  long  as  the  world  endures.  Plain  Good 
Intention,  which  is  as  easily  discovered  at  the  first  view,  as  Fraud 
is  surely  detected  at  last,  is  of  no  mean  force  in  the  Government 
of  Mankind.  Genuine  simplicity  of  heart  is  a  healing  and 
cementing  Principle. 

(^Obemmcnt.  —  Cicero. 
TT  is  necessary  for  a  Senator  to  be  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
the  Constitution  ;  and  this  is  a  knowledge  of  the  most  extensive 
nature  ;  a  matter  of  science,  of  diligence,  of  reflection,  without  which 
no  Senator  can  possibly  be  fit  for  his  office. 

<&obernment.  —  Tacitus. 

THE  repose  of  Nations  cannot  be  secure  without  Arms,  Armies 
cannot  be  maintained  without  Pay,  nor  can  the  Pay  be  produced 
except  by  Taxes. 

<&Obemmettt.  —  Lord  Bacon. 
THE  surest  way  to  prevent  Seditions  (if  the  times  do  bear  it)  is 
to  take  away  the  matter  of  them  ;  for  if  there  be  Fuel  prepared, 
it  is  hard  to  tell  whence  the  Spark  shall  come  that  shall  set  it  on 
fire. 


■    OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  187 

Sobentment.— De  My. 

CI  OOD  is  never  more  effectually  performed  than  when  it  is  pro- 
duced by  slow  degrees. 

<&0bcrnmmt.  —  Tom  Brovm. 
THOUGH  a  soldier,  in  time  of  peace,  is  like  a  Chimney  in  Sum- 
mer, yet  what  wise  man  would  pluck  down  his  Chimney  be- 
cause his  almanac  tells  him  'tis  the  middle  of  June. 

<&obernment- — Antigonus. 

TTE  who  forms  the  mind  of  a  Prince,  and  implants  in  him  good 
Principles,   may  see  the  precepts   he  had  inculcated    extend 
through  a  large  portion  of  his  Subjects. 

(Srobernment.  —  Goldsmith. 

J>OLITICS  resemble  Religion  :  attempting  to  divest  either  of 
Ceremony  is  the  most  certain  method  of  bringing  either  into 
contempt.  The  weak  must  have  their  inducements  to  admiration 
as  well  as  the  wise;  and  it  is  the  business  of  a  sensible  Govern- 
ment to  impress  all  ranks  with  a  sense  of  subordination,  whether 
this  be  effected  by  a  diamond  or  a  virtuous  edict,  a  sumptuary 
law  or  a  glass  necklace. 

©Obentment-  —  Seneca. 
"DOWER  exercised  with  Violence  has  seldom  been  of  long  dura- 
tion,  but  Temper  and  Moderation    generally  produce  perma- 
nence in  all  things. 

©Obewment.  —  Rousseau. 

A   CONTRACT  made  with  its  subjects  by  any  Government,  is  so 

far  dissolved  by  the  exercise  of   Despotism,  that  the  Despot 

is  only  able  to  enforce  it  while  he  continues  the  strongest ;    but 

as  soon  as  it  is  practicable  to  expel  him,  he  has  no  good  grounds 

on  which  to  found  a  protest  against  the  proceeding. 

(Sobetnmg  dFabcuritcs.  —  Fuller. 

\yHEN  a  Favourite  grows  insolent,  it  is  wisdom  to  raise  another 
into  favour,  who  may  give  check  to  the  other's  Presumption. 

IStttfitg  (kraceS.  —  Shakspeare. 

King-becoming  Graces 
Are  Justice,  Verity,  Temperance,  Stableness, 
Bounty,  Perseverance,  Mercy,  Lowliness, 
Devotion,  Patience,  Courage,  Fortitude. 

(Sratttutie.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
Y\THAT  causes  such  a  miscalculation  in  the  amount  of  Gratitude 
which  men  expect  for  the  favours  they  have  done,  is,  that  the 
Pride  of  the  giver  and  that  of  the  receiver  can  never  agree  as  tc 
the  value  of  the  Benefit. 

R 


188  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF  TRUTH; 

SratttUtie.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
A  LMOST  every  one  takes  a  Pleasure  in  requiting  trifling  Obli- 
gations ;    many  people  are  grateful  for  moderate  ones ;  but 
there  is  scarcely  any  one  who  does  not  show  Ingratitude  for  great 
ones. 

(^ratttUtie.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
YATHILE  we  retain  the  power  of  rendering  Service,  and  confer- 
ring Favours,  we  seldom  experience  Ingratitude. 

<£ratttUfce.—  Charron. 
JJE  who  receives  a  Good  Turn,  should  never  forget  it :  he  who 
does  one,  should  never  remember  it. 

<&ratttuiie*  —  Pope. 

YATHEREVER  I  find  a  great  deal  of  Gratitude  in  a  poor  man, 
I  take  it  for  granted  there  would  be  as  much  Generosity  if 
he  were  a  rich  man. 

d^XatitVLtit.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
HPHERE  is  a  certain  lively  Gratitude  which  not  only  acquits  us 
of  the  Obligations  we  have  received,  but,  by  paying  what  we 
owe  them,  makes  our  Friends  indebted  to  us. 

t&XatitUtlt.—  Shakspeare. 

I  have  five  hundred  crowns, 
The  thrifty  hire  I  saved  under  your  Father, 
Which  I  did  store,  to  be  my  foster  nurse, 
When  service  should  in  my  old  limbs  lie  lame, 
And  unregarded  age  in  corners  thrown. 
Take  that :  and  He  that  doth  the  ravens  feed, 
Yea,  providently  caters  for  the  sparrow, 
Be  comfort  to  my  age ! 

©tatttufce,  —  Shakspeare. 
The  hedge-sparrow  fed  the  cuckoo  so  long, 
That  it  had  its  head  bit  off  by  its  young. 

(fctatttUO-e,  —  Shakspeare. 
T  CAN  no  other  answer  make,  but,  Thanks, 

And  Thanks,  and  ever  Thanks :  Often  Good  Turns 
Are  shuffled  off  with  such  uncurrent  pay  : 
But,  were  my  worth,  as  is  my  conscience,  firm, 
You  should  find  better  dealing. 

(SxratttUtie,  —  Congreve. 
0  call  not  to  my  mind  what  you  have  done! 
It  sets  a  Debt  of  that  account  before  me, 
Which  shows  me  poor  and  bankrupt  even  in  hopes ! 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  ISO 


©ratttUtie.  —  Queen  Christina. 
TT  is  a  species  of  agreeable  servitude,  to  be  under  an  Obligation 
to  those  we  esteem. 

TTERE  are  the  Prude  severe,  and  gay  Coquette, 

The  sober  Widow,  and  the  young  green  Virgin, 
Cropp'd  like  a  rose  before  'tis  fully  blown, 
Or  half  its  worth  disclosed.     Strange  medley  here! 
Here  garrulous  Old  Age  winds  up  his  tale; ' 
And  Jovial  Youth,  of  lightsome,  vacant  heart, 
Whose  every  day  was  made  of  melody, 
Hears  not  the  voice  of  mirth  :  the  shrill-tongued  Shrew, 
Meek  as  the  turtle-dove,  forgets  her  chiding. 
Here  are  the  Wise,  the  Generous,  and  the  Brave ; 
The  Just,  the  Good,  the  Worthless,  the  Profane, 
The  downright  Clown,  and  perfectly  Well-bred; 
The  Fool,  the  Churl,  the  Scoundrel,  and  the  Mean. 

Cfje  <£rabc  — Blair. 

JJERE  all  the  mighty  Troublers  of  the  Earth, 

Who  swam  to  sovereign  rule  through  seas  of  blood ; 
The  oppressive,  sturdy,  man-destroying  Villains, 
Who  ravaged  kingdoms,  and  laid  empires  waste, 
And  in  a  cruel  wantonness  of  power 
Thinn'd  states  of  half  their  people,  and  gave  up 
To  want  the  rest;  now,  like  a  storm  that's  spent, 
Lie  hush'd,  and  meanly  sneak  behind  thy  Covert. 
Vain  thought !  to  hide  them  from  the  general  scorn 
That  haunts  and  dogs  them  like  an  injured  ghost 
Implacable. 

©rabttj).  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
^j-RAVITY  is  a  mystery  of  the   Body,  invented  to  conceal  the 
defects  of  the  Mind. 

<£rabttj).  —  Saville. 
'THERE  is  a  false  Gravity  that  is  a  very  ill  symptom;  and  it 
may  be  said,  that  as  rivers,  which  run  very  slowly,  have  always 
the  most  Mud  at  the  bottom;  so  a  solid  Stiffness  in  the  constant 
course  of  a  man's  life,  is  a  sigu  of  a  thick  bed  of  Mud  at  the  bottom 
of  his  Brain. 

©tabttg.—  Pliny. 
A  S  in  a  man's  life,  so  in  his  studies,  I  think  it  is  the  most  beauti- 
ful and  humane  thing  in  the  world,  so  to  mingle  Gravity  with 
Pleasure,  that  the  one  may  not  sink  into  Melancholy,  nor  the  other 
rise  up  into  Wantonness. 


100  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

©ftabttg,  —  Young. 

"^y HAT'S  the  bent  brow,  or  neck  in  Thought  reclined? 

The  body's  Wisdom  to  conceal  the  mind. 
A  man  of  sense  can  Artifice  disdain; 
As  men  of  wealth  may  venture  to  go  plain; 
And  be  this  Truth  eternal  ne'er  forgot, — 
Solemnity's  a  cover  for  a  sot. 

©rabttj?.  —  Lord  Shaftesbury. 
Q.RAVITY  is  of  the  very  essence  of  Imposture;  it  does  not  only 
make  us  mistake  other  things,  but  is  apt  perpetually  almost  to 
mistake  itself. 

<&rabttg.  —  Lavater. 
Too  much  Gravity  argues  a  shallow  mind. 

©rabttg.  —  Sterne. 
Y^RICK  sometimes  in  his  wild  way  of  talking  would  say,  that 
Gravity  was  an  arrant  Scoundrel,  and,  he  would  add,  of  the 
most  dangerous  kind  too,  because  a  sly  one:  and  that  he  verily 
believed  more  honest  well-meaning  people  were  bubbled  out  of  their 
goods  and  money  by  it  in  one  twelvemonth  than  b}r  pocket-picking 
and  shop-lifting  in  seven.  In  the  naked  temper  which  a  merry 
heart  discovered,  he  would  say,  there  was  no  danger  but  to  itself; 
whereas  the  very  essence  of  Gravity  was  Design,  and  consequently 
Deceit;  it  was  a  taught  trick  to  gain  Credit  of  the  world  for  more 
sense  and  knowledge  than  a  man  was  worth,  and  that,  with  all  its 
pretensions,  it  was  no  better,  but  often  worse,  than  what  a  French 
wit  had  long  ago  defined  it,  viz.  "a  mysterious  carriage  of  the  Body 
to  cover  the  defects  of  the  Mind;"  which  definition  of  Gravity 
Yorick,  with  great  imprudence,  would  say  deserved  to  be  wrote  in 
betters  of  gold. 

G&xmt  ffltn.  — Cotton. 

^JJJtEAT  Men  often  obtain  their  ends  by  means  beyond  the  Grasp 
of  vulgar  intellect,  and  even  by  Methods  diametrically  opposite 
to  those  which  the  multitude  would  pursue.  But,  to  effect  this, 
bespeaks  as  profound  a  knowledge  of  Mind,  as  that  philosopher 
evinced  of  Matter,  who  first  produced  ice  by  the  agency  of  heat. 

G&xtaU  jftten.  —  Cotton. 

T  THINK  it  is  Warburton  who  draws  a  very  just  distinction 
between  a  man  of  true  Greatness  and  a  Mediocrist.  "If,"  says 
he,  "  you  want  to  recommend  yourself  to  the  former,  take  care  that 
lie  quits  your  Society  with  a  good  opinion  of  you;  if  your  object 
is  to  please  the  latter,  take  care  that  he  leaves  you  with  a  good 
opinion  of  himself." 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  191 


©freat  £&tn.—Anon. 

"\TOUNTAINS  never  shake  hands.  Their  roots  may  touch  :  they 
may  keep  together  some  way  up:  but  at  length  they  part 
company,  and  rise  into  individual,  insulated  peaks.  So  is  it  with 
Great  Men.  As  mountains  mostly  run  in  chains  and  clusters, 
crossing  the  plain  at  wider  or  narrower  interval?,  in  like  manner 
are  there  epochs  in  History  when  Great  Men  appear  in  clusters 
also.  At  first  too  they  grow  up  together,  seeming  to  be  animated 
by  the  same  Spirit,  to  have  the  same  desires  and  antipathies,  the 
same  purposes  and  ends.  But  after  a  while  the  Genius  of  each 
begins  to  know  itself,  and  to  follow  its  own  bent;  they  separate 
and  diverge  more  and  more :  and  those  who,  when  young,  were 
working  in  consort,  stand  alone  in  their  old  age.  But  if  mountains 
do  not  shake  hands,  neither  do  they  kick  each  other.  Their  human 
counterparts  unfortunately  are  more  pugnacious.  Although  they 
break  out  of  the  throng,  and  strive  to  soar  in  solitary  Eminence, 
they  cannot  bear  that  their  neighbours  should  do  the  same,  but 
complain  that  they  impede  the  View,  and  often  try  to  overthrow 
them,  especially  if  they  are  higher. 

<£reat   ifteit.—  La  Rochefoucauld. 
0  be  a  Great  Man  one  must  know  how  to  profit  by  the  whole  of 
one's  Fortune. 

(kteat  fflzn.  —  Coiton. 

TN  life,  we  shall  find  many  men  that  are  great,  and  some  men 
that  are  good,  but  very  few  Men  that  are  both  great  and  good. 

(&teat  iHen.  —  Coiton. 

rFHE  reason  why  Great  men  Meet  with  so  little  pity  or  attach- 
ment in  Adversity,  would  seem  to  be  this.     The  Friends  of  a 
Great  Man  were  made  by  his  Fortunes,  his  Enemies  by  himself, 
and  Revenge  is  a  much  more  punctual  paymaster  than  Gratitude. 

<£teat  i£len.  —  Coiton. 

SUBTRACT  from  a  Great  Man  all  that  he  owes  to  Opportunity, 
and  all  that  he  owes  to  Chance,  all  that  he  has  gained  by  the 
wisdom  of  his  friends,  and  by  the  folly  of  his  enemies,  and  our 
L'robdinag  will  often  become  a  Lilliputian.  I  think  it  is  Voltaire 
who  observes,  that  it  was  very  fortunate  for  Cromwell  that  he  ap- 
peared upon  the  stage  at  the  precise  moment  when  the  people  were 
tired  of  Kings  ;  and  as  unfortunate  for  his  son  Richard,  that  he  had 
to  make  good  his  pretensions  at  a  moment  when  the  people  were 
equally  tired  of  Protectors. 

(£teat  fflm.—  Fisher  Ames. 
THE  most  substantial  glory  of  a  country  is  in  its  virtuous  great 
men  :  its  prosperity  will  depend  on  its  docility  to  learn  from 

p.  2 


192  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

their  example.  That  nation  is  fated  to  ignominy  and  servitude,  for 
which  .such  men  have  lived  in  vain.  Power  may  be  seized  by  a 
nation  that  is  yet  barbarous ;  and  wealth  may  be  enjoyed  by  one 
that  it  finds  or  renders  sordid  :  the  one  is  the  gift  and  sport  of  acci- 
dent, and  the  other  is  the  sport  of  power.  Both  are  mutable,  and 
have  passed  away  without  leaving  behind  them  any  other  memorial 
than  ruins  that  offend  taste,  and  traditions  that  baffle  conjecture. 
But  the  glory  of  Greece  is  imperishable,  or  will  last  as  long  as 
learning  itself,  which  is  its  monument :  it  strikes  an  everlasting 
root,  and  leaves  perennial  blossoms  on  its  grave. 

(kreatttcss  of  QWlasfyiwttm.  —  Sparks. 

TF  the  title  of  great  man  ought  to  be  reserved  for  him  who  cannot 
be  charged  with  an  indiscretion  or  a  vice,  who  spent  his  life  in 
establishing  the  independence,  the  glory,  and  durable  prosperity  of 
his  country ;  who  succeeded  in  all  that  he  undertook,  and  whose 
successes  were  never  won  at  the  expense  of  honour,  justice,  in- 
tegrity, or  by  the  sacrifice  of  a  single  principle — this  title  will  not 
be  denied  to  Washington. 

iSreatneSS.  —  Seneca. 
A  GREAT,  a  Good,  and  a  Right  Mind  is  a  kind  of  Divinity 
lodged  in  flesh,  and  may  be  the  blessing  of  a  slave  as  well  as 
of  a  prince :  it  came  from  Heaven,  and  to  Heaven  it  must  return  ; 
and  it  is  a  kind  of  heavenly  felicity,  which  a  pure  and  virtuous 
Mind  enjoys,  in  some  degree,  even  upon  earth. 

CXteatnegg.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

HTHE  mightier  man,  the  mightier  is  the  thing 

That  makes  him  honor' d,  or  begets  him  Hate  : 
For  greatest  Scandal  waits  on  greatest  state. 
The  Moon  being  clouded  presently  is  miss'd, 
But  little  Stars  may  hide  them  when  they  list. 

The  crow  may  bathe  his  coal-black  wings  in  mire, 
And  unperceived  fly  with  the  filth  away ; 

But  if  the  like  the  snow-white  swan  desire, 
The  stain  upon  his  silver  down  will  stay. 
Poor  grooms  are  sightless  night,  Kings  glorious  day. 
Gnats  are  unnoted  wheresoe'er  they  fly, 
But  Eagles  gazed  upon  with  every  eye. 

<&reattte0S.  —  La  Btuyere. 
j^J-REATNESS  and  Discernment  are   two  different  things,  and  a 
love  of  Virtue  and  of  Virtuous  Men  is  a  third  thing 

^reatnegg*  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
TTOWEVER  brilliant  an  Action  may  be,  it  ought  not  to  pass  for 
great  when  it  is  not  the  result  of  a  great  design. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  193 

GreatneSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
They  that  stand  high,  have  many  blasts  to  shake  them; 
And,  if  they  fall,  they  dash  themselves  to  piece. 

Greatness.  —  Coiton. 

'THE  truly  Great  consider  first,  how  they  may  gain  the  approba- 
tion of   God ;    and    secondly,  that  of   their  own  Conscience ; 
having  done  this,  they  would  then  willingly  conciliate  the  good 
Opinion  of  their  fellow-men. 

Greatness.  —  Coiton. 

HPHE  Wealthy  and  the  Noble,  when  they  expend  large  sums  in 
decorating  their  houses  with  the  rare  and  costly  efforts  of  Ge- 
nius, with  busts  from  the  chisel  of  a  Canova,  and  with  cartoons 
from  the  pencil  of  a  Raphael,  are  to  be  commended,  if  they  do  not 
stand  still  here,  but  go  on  to  bestow  some  pains  and  cost,  that  the 
Master  himself  be  not  inferior  to  the  Mansion,  and  that  the  Owner 
be  not  the  only  thing  that  is  little,  amidst  every  thing  else  that  is 
great. 

<SfreatneiS!S.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
(^j-REAT  Souls  are  not  those  which  have  less  Passion  and  more 
Virtue  than  common  souls,  but  only  those  which  have  greater 
Designs. 

Greatness.—  Coiton. 

A    GREAT  Mind  may  change  its  objects,  but  it  cannot  relinquish 
them;  it  must  have  something  to  pursue;  Variety  is  its  re- 
laxation, and  Amusement  its  repose. 

GreatneSS.  —  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 
rTHE  Hero  passes  through  the  multitude,  as  a  man  that  neither 
disdains  a  People,  nor  yet  is  any  thing  tickled  with  their  Vanity. 

GreatneSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
C\  PLACE  and  Greatness,  millions  of  false  eyes 

Are  stuck  upon  thee  !  volumes  of  report 
Run  with  these  false  and  most  contrarious  quests 
Upon  thy  doings  !  thousand  ;scapes  of  wit 
Make  thee  the  father  of  their  idle  dream, 
And  rack  thee  in  their  fancies. 

Greatness.  —  Prow  the  Latin. 
THAT  which  is  great  or  splendid  is  not  always  laudable,  but  what 
ever  is  laudable  must  be  great. 

(Steatites.  —  Shakspeare. 
/^J-REAT  men  may  jest  with  Saints  :  'tis  wit  in  them; 

But,  in  the  less,  foul  profanation. 
That  in  the  Captain's  but  a  choleric  word, 
Which  in  the  soldier  is  flat  blasphemy. 


194         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 


(feXZaiXltm From  the  Latin. 

Never  less  alone  than  when  alone. 

(£teatne00.  —  Shakspeare. 
These  signs  have  mark'd  me  extraordinary; 
And  all  the  Courses  of  my  life  do  show 
I  am  not  in  the  roll  of  common  men. 

^reatneSS.  —  La  Bruyere. 
A   GREAT  Mind  is  above  doing  an  unjust  act,  above  giving  wav 
to  Grief,  above  descending  to  Buffoonery ;  and  it  would  be  in- 
vulnerable, if  Compassion  did  not  prey  upon  its  sensibility. 
^reatlteiSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
T^HY,  man,  he  doth  bestride  the  narrow  world, 

Like  a  Colossus ;  and  we  petty  men 
Walk  under  his  huge  legs,  and  peep  about 
To  find  ourselves  dishonourable  Graves. 

<&XeatM88.  —  Anon. 
The  greatest  Truths  are  the  simplest :  so  are  the  greatest  Men. 
<&reatneg£u  —  Shakspeare. 
T  HAVE  touch'd  the  highest  point  of  all  my  Greatness; 

And  from  that  fall  Meridian  of  my  glory, 
I  haste  now  to  my  setting  :  I  shall  fall 
Like  a  bright  exhalation  in  the  Evening, 
And  no  man  see  me  more. 

<&reatltei30*  —  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 
'THE  Great,  in  affliction,  bear  a  countenance  more  Princely  than 
they  are  wont ;  for  it  is  the  temper  of  the  highest  Hearts,  like 
the  Palm-tree,  to  strive  most  upward  when  it  is  most  burdened. 

<&Xtatrtt$8.  —  Shakspeare. 
Though  Fortune's  malice  overthrow  my  State, 
My  Mind  exceeds  the  compass  of  her  wheel. 

Greatness.  —  Cicero. 

There  never  was  a  Great  Man,  unless  through  Divine  Inspiration. 

<£teattte£0.  —  Shakspeare. 

His  Greatness  was  no  guard 
To  bar  Heaven's  shaft,  but  Sin  had  his  reward. 

<£teattte0#. — Hail. 

pARTHLY  Greatness    is  a  nice  thing,  and  requires  so    much 
chariness  in  the  managing,  as  the  Contentment  of  it  cannot 
requite. 

<&teatne#0.  —  Young. 
IF  we  did  but  know  how  little  some  enjoy  of  the  great  things 
that  they  possess,  there  would  not  be  much  Envy  in  the  world. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  195 


<&XeatM8B.  —  Skakspeare. 

Rightly  to  bo  great, 
Is,  not  to  stir  without  great  Argument  j 
But  greatly  to  find  quarrel  in  a  straw, 
When  Honour's  at  the  stake. 

<&teatttCS£.  -—  Skakspeare. 
0  Place  !  0  Form  ! 
How  often  dost  thou  with  thy  case,  thy  habit, 
Wrench  awe  from  Fools,  and  tie  the  wiser  souls 
To  thy  false  seeming. 

^reatneSS.  —  Laoater. 
TTE  only  is  Great  who  has  the  Habits  of  Greatness ;  who,  after 
performing  what  none  in  ten  thousand  could  accomplish,  passes 
on  like  Samson,  and  "  tells  neither  father  nor  mother  of  it." 

<&reatTU0£L  —  Skakspeare. 

Oh,  be  sick,  great  Greatness 
And  bid  thy  Ceremony  give  thee  cure ! 
Think'st  thou,  the  fiery  fever  will  go  out 
With  titles  blown  from  Adulation  ? 
Will  it  give  place  to  flexure  and  low  bending  ? 
Can'st  thou,  when  thou  command'st  the  Beggar's  knee, 
Command  the  Health  of  it  ? 

(Bfreatltegg.  —  Skakspeare. 
f}H,  hard  condition  !  and  twin-born  with  Greatness, 

Subjected  to  the  breath  of  every  fool, 
Whose  Sense  no  more  can  feel  but  his  own  wringing ! 
What  infinite  heart's  ease  must  Kings  neglect 
That  private  men  enjoy  !  and  what  have  Kings 
That  privates  have  not  too,  save  Ceremony  ? 

(fctCatttegS.  —  Skakspeare. 
Oh,  it  is  excellent 
To  have  a  Giant's  strength ;  but  it  is  tyrannous 
To  use  it  like  a  Giant. 

iExteatnClSS.  —  Home. 
The  truly  Generous  is  the  truly  wise; 
And  he  who  loves  not  others,  lives  unblest. 

(KSrteatneSg.  —  Thomson. 
The  generous  pride  of  Virtue 
Disdains  to  weigh  too  nicely  the  returns 
Her  Bounty  meets  with.     Like  the  liberal  Gods, 
From  her  own  gracious  nature  she  bestows, 
Nor  stoops  to  ask  reward 


196  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

<&XtatnC88.  — Seneca. 
THERE  is  as  much  Greatness  of  Mind  in  the  owning  of  a  good 
turn  as  in  the  doing  of  it  ;  and  we  must  no  more  force  a  Re- 
quital out  of  season,  than  be  wanting  in  it. 

d^Xtditmm.  — Byron. 

Unequal  fortune 
Made  him  my  debtor  for  some  courtesies, 
Which  bind  the  good  more  firmly. 

<&reatne0J3.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
THERE  is  a  kind  of  Elevation  which  does  not  depend  on  fortuue. 
It  is  a  certain  air  which  distinguishes  us,  and  seems  to  destine 
us  for  great  things;  it  is  a  Price  which  we  imperceptibly  set  on 
ourselves.  By  this  quality  we  usurp  the  Deference  of  other  men ; 
and  it  puts  us,  in  general,  more  above  them  than  Birth,  Dignity, 
or  even  Merit  itself. 

<&reattte00 Skakspeare. 

TJE  great  in  act,  as  you  have  been  in  thought; 
Be  stirring  as  the  time ;  be  Fire  with  fire ; 
Threaten  the  Threat'ner,  and  outface  the  brow 
Of  bragging  Horror:  so  shall  inferior  eyes, 
That  borrow  their  behaviours  from  the  great, 
Grow  great  by  your  Example,  and  put  on 
The  dauntless  spirit  of  Resolution. 

Q&Xt&tnt88.— Addison. 
True  Fortitude  is  seen  in  great  exploits 
That  Justice  warrants,  and  that  Wisdom  guides : 
All  else  is  tow'ring  Phrensy  and  Distraction. 

<£teatneSJ3.  —  Thomson. 
T>UT  to  the  generous  still  improving  Mind, 

That  gives  the  hopeless  heart  to  sing  for  joy, 
Diffusing  kind  Beneficence  around, 
Boastless,  as  now  descends  the  silent  dew; 
To  him  the  long  review  of  order'd  life 
Is  inward  rapture,  only  to  be  felt. 

^reatneSS.  —  Shakspearc. 

I  love  the  People, 
But  do  not  like  to  stage  me  to  their  eyes : 
Though  it  do  well,  I  do  not  relish  well 
Their  loud  Applause,  and  aves  vehement : 
Nor  do  I  think  the  man  of  safe  Discretion, 
That  does  affect  it. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  197 

©reatneSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
Some  are  born  Great,  some  achieve  Greatness, 
And  some  have  Greatness  thrust  upon  them. 

©reatlteSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
Let  me  not  live, 
After  my  Flame  lacks  oil,  to  be  the  snuff 
Of  younger  spirits,  whose  apprehensive  senses 
All  but  new  things  disdain;  whose  Judgments  are 
Mere  fathers  of  their  Garments;  whose  constancies 
Expire  before  their  Fashions. 

<£reatnC00.  —  Shakspeare. 
'TIS  certain,  Greatness,  once  fallen  out  with  Fortune, 
Must  fall  out  with  men  too:  what  the  declined  is, 
He  shall  as  soon  read  in  the  eyes  of  others, 
As  feel  in  his  own  fall ;  for  men,  like  Butterflies, 
Show  not  their  mealy  wings  but  to  the  Summer. 

<&reatJU0j3.  —  Young. 
'Tis  great,  'tis  manly,  to  disdain  disguise ; 
It  shows  our  Spirit,  or  it  proves  our  strength. 

<£  teattteSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
I  have  ventured, 
Like  little  wanton  boys  that  swim  on  bladders, 
This  many  summers  in  a  sea  of  Glory ; 
But  far  beyond  my  depth  :  my  high-blown  Pride 
At  length  broke  under  me ;  and  now  has  left  me, 
Weary,  and  old  with  service,  to  the  mercy 
Of  a  rude  stream,  that  must  for  ever  hide  me. 
Vain  Pomp,  and  Glory  of  this  world,  I  hate  ye  : 
I  feel  my  heart  new  open'd. 
I  know  myself  now ;  and  I  feel  within  me 
A  Peace  above  all  earthly  dignities, 
A  still  and  quiet  Conscience. 

Greatness.  —  Pope. 

TN  parts  superior  what  advantage  lies  ? 

Tell  (for  you  can)  what  is  it  to  be  wise  ? 
'Tis  but  to  know  how  little  can  be  known; 
To  see  all  others'  faults,  and  feel  our  own  : 
Condemn'd  in  Business  or  in  arts  to  drudge, 
Without  a  second,  or  without  a  Judge : 
Truths  would  you  teach,  or  save  a  sinking  Land  ? 
All  fear,  none  aid  you,  and  few  understand. 
Painful  Pre-eminence  !  yourself  to  view 
Above  life'v  weakness,  and  its  comforts  too. 


198         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

<&Xtatnz$S.  —  Roive. 
Great  Minds,  like  Heaven,  are  pleased  in  doing  Good, 
Though  the  ungrateful  subjects  of  their  favours 
Are  barren  in  return. 

<&reatne0!3.  —  Young. 
High  Stations  tumult,  but  not  bliss,  create : 
None  think  the  Great  unhappy,  but  the  Great. 

<&XW\Wm.  —  Pope. 
TURING  then  these  Blessings  to  a  strict  account ; 

Make  fair  deductions  j  see  to  what  they  'mount 
How  much  of  other  each  is  sure  to  cost; 
How  much  for  other  oft  is  wholly  lost; 
How  inconsistent  greater  goods  with  these ; 
How  sometimes  Life  is  risk'd,  and  always  Ease; 
Think,  and  if  still  the  things  thy  envy  call, 
Say,  would'st  thou  be  the  man  to  whom  they  fall? 
To  sigh  for  ribbons,  if  thou  art  silly, 
Mark  how  they  grace  Lord  Umbra,  or  Sir  Billy. 
Is  yellow  dirt  the  passion  of  thy  life  ? 
Look  but  on  Gripus,  or  on  Gripus'  wife. 
If  parts  allure  thee,  think  how  Bacon  shined, 
The  wisest,  brightest,  meanest  of  Mankind. 

<£teatneS!S.  —  Byron. 

From  my  youth  upward 
My  Spirit  walk'd  not  with  the  Souls  of  men, 
Nor  look'd  upon  the  earth  with  human  eyes ; 
The  thirst  of  their  Ambition  was  not  mine, 
The  aim  of  their  Existence  was  not  mine ; 
My  joys,  my  griefs,  my  passions,  and  my  powers, 
Made  me  a  Stranger. 

Q&XZ&tWm.  —  Thomson. 

'Tis  hardship,  toil; 
'Tis  sleepless  nights,  and  never-resting  days ; 
'Tis  pain,  'tis  danger,  'tis  affronted  Death ; 
'Tis  equal  fate  for  all,  and  changing  Fortune ; 
That  rear  the  mind  to  Glory,  that  inspire 
The  noblest  Virtues,  and  the  gentlest  Manners. 

(& t£atTte££L — Joanna  Baillie. 
~tTE  died  that  Death  which  best  becomes  a  man, 

Who  is  with  keenest  sense  of  conscious  ill 
And  deep  Remorse  assail'd,  a  wounded  Spirit. 
A  death  that  kills  the  Noble  and  the  Brave, 
And  only  them.     He  had  no  other  wound. 


OR,     THINGS    NEW  AND    OLD.  199 

l&reatnCSS.  —  Thomson. 

Real  Glory 
Springs  from  the  silent  conquest  of  ourselves ; 
And  without  that  the  Conqueror  is  naught 
But  the  first  slave. 

(fexitf  ♦  —  Shakspeare. 
'THE  violence  of  either  Grief  or  Joy 

Their  own  enactures  with  themselves  destroy : 
Where  Joy  most  revels,  Grief  doth  most  lament; 
Grief  joys,  Joy  grieves,  on  slender  accident. 

<£rief .  —  Greville. 
"YyHAT  an  argument  in  favour  of  social  connections  is  the  obser- 
vation that  by  communicating  our  Grief  we  have  less,  and  by 
communicating  our  Pleasure  we  have  more. 

(Kfttcf .  —  Shakspeare. 
Give  me  no  help  in  Lamentation, 
I  am  not  barren  to  bring  forth  laments : 
All  springs  reduce  their  currents  to  mine  Eyes, 
That  I,  being  govern'd  by  the  watery  moon, 
May  send  forth  plenteous  Tears  to  drown  the  world ! 

(&Utt—  Dryden. 
TV/TINE  is  a  Grief  of  fury,  not  Despair ! 

And  if  a  manly  drop  or  two  fall  down, 
It  scalds  along  my  cheeks,  like  the  green  wood, 
That  sputtering  in  the  flames,  works  outward  into  Tears. 

(&XitL  —  Shakspeare. 

Grief  softens  the  Mind, 
And  makes  it  fearful  and  degenerate. 

(G*n£  i .  —  Metastasio. 
JF  the  internal  Griefs  of  every  man  could  be  read,  written  on  his 
forehead,  how  many  who  now  excite  Envy,  would  appear  to  be 
objects  of  Pity  ? 

<£rtef .  —  Sliakspeare. 

Weep  I  cannot, 
But  my  heart  bleeds. 

Q&XXti .  —  Shakspeare. 
r)H  how  her  eyes  and  tears  did  lend  and  borrow ! 
Her  eyes  seen  in  the  Tears,  tears  in  her  eye; 
Both  crystals,  where  they  view'd  each  other's  Sorrow  J 

Sorrow,  that  friendly  Sighs  sought  still  to  dry; 
But  like  a  stormy  day,  now  wind,  now  rain, 
Sighs  dry  her  cheeks,  Tears  make  them  wet  again. 


200  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH, 


(Exrief.  — Joanna  Baillie. 
I'll  do  whate'er  thou  wilt,  I  will  be  silent; 
But  oh !  a  reined  Tongue,  and  bursting  Heart, 
Are  hard  at  once  to  bear. 

(krtef .  —  Shakspeare. 
(~)H,  what  a  noble  Combat  hast  thou  fought, 
Between  compulsion  and  a  brave  respect ! 
Let  me  wipe  off  this  honourable  Dew, 
That  silverly  doth  progress  on  thy  cheeks. 
My  Heart  hath  melted  at  a  lady's  tears, 
Being  an  ordinary  inundation  : 
But  this  effusion  of  such  manly  drops, 
This  shower,  blown  up  by  Tempest  of  the  Soul, 
Startles  mine  eyes,  and  makes  me  more  amazed, 
Than  had  I  seen  the  vaulty  top  of  Heaven 
Figured  quite  o'er  with  burning  meteors. 
Lift  up  thy  brow, 

And  with  a  great  heart  heave  away  this  storm. 
Commend  these  waters  to  those  baby-eyes, 
That  never  saw  the  giant  World  enraged ; 
Nor  met  with  Fortune,  other  than  at  feasts, 
Full-warm  of  blood,  of  mirth,  of  gossiping. 

<£riet  —  Thomson. 
Sweet  Source  of  every  virtue, 

0  Sacred  Sorrow  !  he  who  knows  not  thee, 
Knows  not  the  best  emotions  of  the  Heart, 
Those  tender  Tears  that  humanize  the  Soul, 

The  Sigh  that  charms,  the  Pang  that  gives  delight. 

(JBrttff .  —  Joanna  Baillie. 
T  FELT  a  sudden  tightness  grasp  my  throat 
As  it  would  strangle  me :  such  as  I  felt, 

1  knew  it  well,  some  twenty  years  ago, 

When  my  good  father  shed  his  Blessing  on  me  : 
I  hate  to  weep,  and  so  I  came  away. 

ffittef*  —  Shakspeare. 
She  shook 
The  holy  water  from  her  heavenly  eyes, 
And  clamour  moisten'd :  then  away  she  started 
To  deal  with  Grief  alone. 

<&ttef.—  Shakspeare. 
Oh  !  Grief  hath  changed  me,  since  you  saw  me  last 
And  careful  hours  with  Time's  deformed  hand 
Have  written  strange  defeatures  in  my  Face. 


■J 


WH] 


OR,   THINGS    NEW  AXD    OLD.  201 

(CU'tef.  —  Shalcspeare. 
Why  tell  you  me  of  moderation  ; 
The  Grief  is  fine,  full,  perfect,  that  I  taste, 
And  violenteth  in  a  sense  as  strong 
As  that  which  causeth  it:  How  can  I  moderate  it? 
If  I  could  temporize  with  my  Affection, 
Or  brew  it  to  a  weak  and  colder  palate, 
The  like  allayment  could  I  give  my  Grief; 
My  Love  admits  no  qualifying  dross  : 
No  more  my  Grief,  in  such  a  precious  loss. 

(&ttef .  —  Shalcspeare. 
EN  the  Sun  sets,  the  air  doth  drizzle  Dew. 
What,  still  in  tears  ? 
Evermore  showering?  In  one  little  body 
Thou  counterfeit'st  a  Bark,  a  Sea,  a  Wind  : 
For  still  thy  eyes,  which  I  may  call  the  Sea, 
Do  ebb  and  flow  with  Tears;  the  Bark  thy  body  is, 
Sailing  in  this  salt  Flood  ;  the  Winds,  thy  Sighs; 
Who, — raging  with  thy  Tears,  and  they  with  them, — 
Without  a  sudden  Calm,  will  overset 
Thy  tempest-toss'd  body. 

Grtef.—  Byron. 
"VET  disappointed  joys  are  Woes  as  deep 
As  any  man's  clay  mixture  undergoes. 
Our  least  of  Sorrows  are  such  as  we  weep ; 
'Tis  the  vile  daily  drop  on  drop  that  wears 
The  Soul  out  (like  the  stone)  with  petty  Cares. 

©ftief.  —  Byr&n. 

TTPON  her  face  there  was  the  tint  of  Grief, 
The  settled  Shadow  of  nn  inward  Strife, 
And  an  unquiet  drooping  of  the  Eye, 
As  if  its  lid  were  charged  with  unshed  tears. 


D 


(£*  ncf.  —  Shalcspeare. 
I"  AM  not  prone  to  Weeping,  as  our  sex 

Commonly  are;   the  want  of  which  vain  dew, 
Perchance,  shall  dry  your  Pities;   but  I  have 
That  honourable  Grief  lodged  here,  which  burns 
Worse  than  Tears  drown. 

iDttCf.  —  Young. 
Who  fails  to  grieve,  when  just  occasion  calls, 
Or  grieves  too  much,  deserves  not  to  be  blest : 
Inhuman,  or  effeminate,  his  Heart. 


!02  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

(S5rtt'0f.  —  Spenser. 
T  ONG  thus  he  chew'd  the  cud  of  inward  Griefe, 

And  did  consume  his  Gall  with  Anguish  sore; 
Still  when  he  mused  on  his  late  mischiefe, 
Then  still  the  smart  thereof  increased  more, 
And  seem'd  more  grievous  than  it  was  before. 

&Utt  — Spenser. 
THUS  is  my  Summer  worn  away  and  wasted, 
Thus  is  my  Harvest  hasten'd  all  to  rathe ; 
The  ear  that  budded  fair  is  burnt  and  blasted ; 

And  all  my  hoped  gain  is  turn'd  to  scathe. 
Of  all  the  seed  that  in  my  youth  was  sown, 
Was  none  but  Brakes  and  Brambles  to  be  mown. 

(Exttef  ♦  —  Shakspeare. 
f^J-RIEF  fills  the  room  up  of  my  absent  Child ; 

Lies  in  his  bed,  walks  up  and  down  with  me; 
Puts  on  his  pretty  looks,  repeats  his  words, 
Remembers  me  of  all  his  gracious  parts; 
Stuffs  out  his  vacant  garments  with  his  form : 
Then  have  I  reason  to  be  fond  of  Grief. 

<&riei  — Spenser. 

'TO'HICH  when  she  heard,  as  in  despightfull  wise 
She  wilfully  her  sorrow  did  augment, 

And  offer' d  hope  of  comfort  did  despise  : 
Her  golden  lockes  most  cruelly  she  rent, 
And  scratcht  her  face  with  ghastly  Dreriment; 

Ne  would  she  speake,  ne  see,  ne  yet  be  seene, 
But  hid  her  Visage,  and  her  Head  downe  bent, 

Either  for  grievous  Shame,  or  for  great  Teene, 

As  if  her  Heart  with  Sorrow  had  transfixed  beene. 

ffitttet— Byron. 

THROUGH  many  a  clime  'tis  mine  to  go, 

With  many  a  retrospection  curst, 
And  all  my  Solace  is  to  know, 

Whate'er  betides,  I've  known  the  worst. 
What  is  that  worst  ?  Nay,  do  not  ask, 

In  pity  from  the  search  forbear  : 
Smile  on — nor  venture  to  unmask 

Man's  heart,  and  view  the  Hell  that's  there. 

(flxXitf .  —  Shakspeare. 
Every  one  can  master  a  Grief,  but  he  that  has  it. 

©fttef*  —  Shakspeare. 

Honest  plain  words  best  pierce  the  ear  of  Grief. 


On,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  203 

<&CtCf.  —  Spenser. 
T^THAT  equall  torment  to  the  G-riefe  of  Mind, 
And  pyning  Anguish  hid  in  gentle  hart, 
That  inly  feeds  itself  e  with  thoughts  unkind, 
And  nourisheth  her  owne  consuming  Smart  ? 
What  medicine  can  any  leach's  art 

Yeeld  such  a  sore,  that  doth  her  Grievance  hide, 
And  will  to  none  her  Maladie  impart  ? 

©ftttf.— Spenser. 

"YT/'HICH  whenas  Seudamour  did  heare,  his  heart 

Was  thril'd  with  inward  Griefe,  as  when  in  chace 
The  Parthian  strikes  a  stag  with  shivering  dart, 
The  beast  astonisht  stands  in  middest  of  his  Smart. 

(kriet  —  Shakspeare. 
I  PRAY  thee,  cease  thy  counsel, 
Which  falls  into  mine  ears  as  profitless 
As  water  in  a  sieve  :  give  not  me  counsel ; 
Nor  let  no  comforter  delight  mine  ear, 
But  such  a  one,  whose  wrongs  do  suit  with  mine. 
Bring  me  a  Father,  that  so  loved  his  Child, 
Whose  joy  of  her  is  overwhelm'd  like  mine, 
And  bid  him  speak  of  Patience  j 
Measure  his  woe  the  length  and  breadth  of  mine, 
And  let  it  answer  every  strain  for  strain  ; 
As  thus  for  thus,  and  such  a  grief  for  such, 
In  every  lineament,  branch,  shape,  and  form  : 
If  such  a  one  will  smile,  and  stroke  his  beard ; 
Cry — Sorrow,  wag!  and  hem,  when  he  should  groan; 
Patch  Grief  with  proverbs ;  make  Misfortune  drunk 
With  candle-wasters;  bring  him  yet  to  me, 
And  I  of  him  will  gather  Patience. 
But  there  is  no  such  man. 

Q&Xitf .  —  Shakspeare. 

Ah,  my  tender  Babes ! 
My  unblown  flowers,  new-appearing  sweets ! 
If  yet  your  gentle  Souls  fly  in  the  air — 
Hover  about  me  with  your  airy  wings, 
And  hear  your  mother's  Lamentation. 


^LAS 


©fttef.—  Drydm. 

!  I  have  not  words  to  tell  my  Grief; 
To  vent  my  Sorrow  would  be  some  relief; 
Light  Sufferings  give  us  leisure  to  complain  j 
We  groan,  we  cannot  speak,  in  greater  Pain. 


!04  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Bxitt—Shakspeare. 
TPHE  shadow  of  my  Sorrow?  Ha!  let's  see  : — 

'Tis  very  true,  my  Grief  lies  all  within ; 
And  these  external  manners  of  Lament 
Are  merely  shadows  to  the  unseen  Grief, 
That  swells  with  silence  in  the  tortured  Soul; 
There  lies  the  Substance. 

<&ttei  —  Moore. 
HPHE  world  had  just  begun  to  steal, 

Each  hope,  that  led  me  lightly  on; 
I  felt  not  as  I  used  to  feel, 

And  life  grew  dark,  and  Love  was  gone ! 
No  eye  to  mingle  Sorrow's  tear, 

No  lip  to  mingle  Pleasure's  breath, 
No  tongue  to  call  me  kind  and  dear — 
'Twas  gloomy,  and  I  wish'd  for  Death ! 

G&Xitf .  —  ShaJcspeare. 
£)H  that  this  too  too  solid  Flesh  would  melt, 

Thaw,  and  resolve  itself  into  a  dew ! 
Or  that  the  Everlasting  had  not  fix'd 
His  Canon  'gainst  Self-slaughter  !     0  God  !  0  God! 
How  weary,  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable 
Seem  to  me  all  the  uses  of  this  world ! 
Fie  on't !     0  fie  !  'tis  an  unweeded  Garden, 
That  grows  to  Seed ;  things  rank,  and  gross  in  nature, 
Possess  it  merely. 

<£wf  ♦  —  Campbell. 

I  alone  am  left  on  earth  ! 
To  whom  nor  Relative  nor  Blood  remains ; 
No  ! — not  a  kindred  drop  that  runs  in  human  veins. 

(&Xitf Shakspeare. 

The  robb'd  that  smiles,  steals  something  from  the  thief; 
He  robs  himself,  that  spends  a  bootless  Grief. 

<85J  ttef .  —  Byron, 
T^THAT  is  the  worst  of  woes  that  wait  on  Age  ? 

What  stamps  the  wrinkle  deeper  on  the  brow  ? 
To  view  each  loved  one  blotted  from  life's  page, 
And  be  alone  on  Earth,  as  I  am  now. 

<&Wt— Moore. 
A  LAS  !  the  Breast  that  inly  bleeds 

Hath  nought  to  dread  from  outward  blow : 
Who  falls  from  all  he  knows  of  Bliss 
Cares  little  into  what  abyss. 


s° 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  20; 

©rtef.— Skakspeare. 
To  mourn  a  Mischief  that  is  past  and  gone, 
Is  the  next  way  to  draw  new  Mischief  on. 

©fntf.  —  Skakspeare. 

"PACH  substance  of  a  Grief  hath  twenty  shadows, 

Which  show  like  Grief  itself,  but  are  not  so : 
For  Sorrow's  eye,  glazed  with  blinding  Tears, 
Divides  one  thing  entire,  to  many  objects. 

<&rief .  —  Spenser. 
all  the  world,  and  all  in  it  I  hate, 
Because  it  changeth  ever  to  and  fro, 
And  never  standeth  in  one  certain  state, 

But  still  unsteadfas^  round  about  doth  go 
Like  a  mill-wheel,  in  midst  of  Misery, 

Driven  with  streams  of  wretchedness  and  woe, 
That  dying  lives,  and  living  still  does  die. 

<£rief .  —  Skakspeare. 
Some  Grief  shows  much  of  Love ; 
But  much  of  Grief  shows  still  some  want  of  Wit. 

<&Wf.  —  Byron. 
'THE  wither'd  frame,  the  ruin'd  mind, 

The  wrack  by  passion  left  behind, 
A  shrivell'd  scroll,  a  scatter' d  leaf, 
Sear'd  by  the  autumn-blast  of  Grief ! 

t&Xitf .  —  Dryden. 
He  withers  at  his  Heart,  and  looks  as  wan 
As  the  pale  spectre  of  a  murder'd  man. 

<&rief.  —  Skakspeare. 
TTAD  he  the  motive  and  the  cue  for  Passion, 

That  I  have,  he  would  drown  the  stage  with  Tears 
And  cleave  the  general  ear  with  horrid  speech ; 
Make  mad  the  Guilty,  and  appal  the  Free, 
Confound  the  ignorant;  and  amaze,  indeed, 
The  very  faculties  of  eyes  and  ears. 

<&rief.  —  Skakspeare. 
He  raised  a  Sigh  so  piteous  and  profound, 
As  it  did  seem  to  shatter  all  his  bulk, 
And  end  his  being. 

<&rtet  —  Skakspeare. 
What,  man  !  ne'er  pull  your  hat  upon  your  brows; 
Give  Sorrow  words  :  the  Grief,  that  does  not  speak, 
Whispers  the  o'er-fraught  Heart,  and  bids  it  break. 


206  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

(&rtef ,  —  Spenser. 
1V"EXT  him  went  Griefe  and  Fury,  matcht  yfere ; 

Griefe  all  in  sable  sorrowfully  clad, 
Downe  hanging  his  dull  head  with  heavy  chere, 

Yet  inly  being  more  than  seeming  sad ; 

A  paire  of  pincers  in  his  hand  he  had, 
"With  which  he  pinched  many  people  to  the  Hart, 

That  from  thenceforth  a  wretched  life  they  ladd 
In  wilfull  languor  and  consuming  smart, 
Dying  each  day  with  inward  wounds  of  Dolour's  dart. 

(Ex  UCf .  —  Shakspeare. 
"VTOST  subject  is  the  fattest  soil  to  weeds ; 
And  he,  the  noble  Image  of  my  youth, 
Is  overspread  with  them  :  therefore  my  Grief 
Stretches  itself  beyond  the  hour  of  death. 

(fixttrf .  —  Joanna  Baillie. 
Like  a  pent-up  flood,  swoln  to  the  height, 
He  pour'd  his  Griefs  into  my  breast  with  Tears, 
Such  as  the  manliest  men  in  their  cross'd  lives 
Are  sometimes  forced  to  shed. 

<&titf .  —  Shakspeare. 
My  Grief  lies  all  within, 
And  these  external  manners  of  laments 
Are  merely  shadows  to  the  unseen  Grief, 
That  swells  with  silence  in  the  tortured  Sou 

<&tkf.  — Spenser. 
T^ITH  that  adowne,  out  of  her  christall  eyne, 
Few  trickling  Teares  she  softly  forth  let  fall, 
That  like  two  orient  perles  did  purely  shyne 
Upon  her  snowy  Cheeke ;  and  therewithall 
She  sighed  soft,  that  none  so  bestiall 
Nor  salvage  hart,  but  ruth  of  her  sad  plight 
Would  make  to  melt,  or  pitteously  appall. 

(GxHCf .  —  Shakspeare. 
(~)H,  break,  my  Heart ! — poor  bankrupt,  break  at  once  ! 

To  prison,  eyes  !  ne'er  look  on  liberty  ! 
Vile  earth,  to  earth  resign ;  end  motion  here ; 
And  thou,  and  Romeo,  press  one  heavy  Bier. 

d^rtef .  —  Shakspeare. 
No,  I'll  not  weep  : — 
I  have  full  cause  of  weeping;  but  this  Heart 
Shall  break  into  a  hundred  thousand  flaws, 
Ere  I'll  weep  : — 0  Fool,  I  shall  go  mad  ! 


OR,     TEIXGS    NEW  AXD    OLD.  207 

Xriff,  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
T'HERE  are  divers  sorts  of  hypocrisy  in  Grief.  In  one,  under 
pretext  of  lamenting  the  loss  of  a  person  who  is  dear  to  us,  we 
lament  ourselves,  we  lament  the  diminution  of  our  Advantages,  of 
our  Pleasures,  of  our  Consideration.  We  regret  the  good  opinion 
that  was  entertained  of  us.  Thus  the  Dead  get  the  credit  of  tears 
which  are  only  shed  for  the  Living.  I  call  this  a  species  of  hy- 
pocrisy, because  in  this  sort  of  Grief  we  deceive  ourselves.  There 
is  yet  another  species  of  Tears  which  have  very  petty  sources,  which 
flow  easily,  and  as  easily  are  dried  :  we  weep  to  acquire  the  reputa- 
tion of  a  tender  Heart;  we  weep  to  be  pitied  \  we  weep  to  be  wept 
over:  in  fine,  we  weep  to  avoid  the  shame  of  not  weeping. 

CrTtef.  —  Martial. 

She  grieves  sincerely  who  grieves  when  alone. 

tfcrief.— ■  Shakspcare. 
Like  the  Lily, 
That  once  was  mistress  of  the  field,  and  flourished, 
I'll  hang  my  Head,  and  perish. 

i&XlCi.— Pliny. 
TTOWEVER,  I  by  no  means  wish  to  become  less  susceptible  of 
Tenderness.  I  know  these  kind  of  misfortunes  would  be  esti- 
mated by  other  persons  only  as  common  losses,  and  from  such  Sen- 
sations they  would  conceive  themselves  great  and  wise  men.  I 
shall  not  determine  cither  their  Greatness  or  their  "Wisdom ;  but  I 
am  certain  they  have  no  Humanity.  It  is  the  part  of  a  man  to  be 
affected  with  Grief,  to  feel  Sorrow,  at  the  same  time  that  he  is  to 
resist  it,  and  to  admit  of  Comfort. 

i£  fief.  —  Shakspcare. 

Ah,  cut  my  lace  asunder ! 
That  my  pent  Heart  may  have  some  scope  to  beat, 
Or  else  I  swoon  with  this  dead-killing  news. 

(£  Xiti .  —  Shakspcare. 
Spirits  of  Peace,  where  are  ye  ?     Are  ye  all  gone? 
And  leave  me  here  in  Wretchedness  behind  ye  ? 

ifyutf.  —  Shakspeare. 
TIT  HEN  remedies  are  past,  the  Griefs  are  ended, 

By  seeing  the  worst,  which  late  on  hopes  depended. 
To  mourn  a  Mischief  that  is  past  and  gone, 
Is  the  next  way  to  draw  new  Mischief  on. 
What  cannot  be  preserved  when  Fortune  takes, 
Patience  her  injury  a  mockery  makes. 
The  robb'd.  that  smile?,  steals  something  from  the  Thief; 
He  robs  himself,  that  spends  a  bootless  Grief. 


208         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

<&Xitf.  — Byron. 

Hide  thy  Tears — 
I  do  not  bid  thee  not  to  shed  them — 'twere 
Easier  to  stop  Euphrates  at  its  source 
Than  one  tear  of  a  true  and  tender  Heart — 
But  let  me  not  behold  them ;  they  unman  me. 

<£ttef .  —  Shakspeare. 
''TIS  double  Death  to  drown  in  ken  of  shore: 

He  ten  times  pines,  that  pines  beholding  food : 
To  see  the  salve,  doth  make  the  Wound  ache  more ; 
Great  Grief  grieves  most  at  that  would  do  it  good : 
Deep  Woes  roll  forward  like  a  gentle  flood, 
Who,  being  stopp'd,  the  bounding  banks  o'erflows; 
Grief  dallied  with,  nor  law  nor  limits  knows. 

ffiWf.— Shakspeare. 

Men 
Can  counsel,  and  speak  comfort  to  that  Grief, 
Which  they  themselves  not  feel ;  but  tasting  it, 
Their  counsel  turns  to  Passion,  which  before 
Would  give  preceptial  medicine  to  Rage, 
Fetter  strong  Madness  in  a  silken  thread, 
Charm  Ache  with  air,  and  Agony  with  words : 
No,  no:  'tis  all  men's  office  to  speak  Patience 
To  those  that  wriug  under  the  load  of  Sorrow ; 
But  no  man's  virtue,  nor  Sufficiency, 
To  be  so  moral,  when  he  shall  endure 
The  like  himself. 

©robellers. — Petsius. 

0  Souls,  in  whom  no  heavenly  Fire  is  found, 
Fat  Minds,  and  ever  grovelling  on  the  ground ! 

(£rumt)lmg.  —  Graves. 
"PVERY  one  must  see  daily  instances  of  people  who  complain  from 
a  mere  Habit  of  Complaining. 

<£rumi)lmg.  —  Greviiu. 

HTHERE  is  an  unfortunate  disposition  in  a  man  to  attend  much 
more  to  the  Faults  of  his  companions  which  offend  him,  than 
to  their  Perfections  which  please  him. 

©rtttlt.  —  Milton. 

Earth  felt  the  wound,  and  Nature  from  her  seat 
Sighing  through  all  her  works  gave  signs  of  Wo. 

Jgafett*—  Cotton. 

TT  is  almost  as  difficult  to  make  a  man  unlearn  his  Errors  as  his 
Knowledge. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  209 

J9af)tt  —  Seneca. 
TO  things  which  you  bear  with  Impatience  you  should  accustom 
yourself,  and,  by  Habit,  you  will  bear  them  well. 

Jl}al)  it.—  Tucker. 
THERE  are  Habits  contracted  by  bad  example,  or  bad  manage- 
ment, before  we  have  Judgment  to  discern  their  approaches,  or 
because  the  eye  of  Reason  is  laid  asleep,  or  has  not  compass  of  view 
sufficient  to  look  around  on  every  quarter. 

J£}at)  it.—  Shakspeare. 
T^EEP  a  Gamester  from  the  dice,  and  a  good   Student  from  his 
book,  and  it  is  wonderful. 

IQabit,  — Horace. 
A   NEW  Cask  will  long  preserve  the  Tincture  of  the  liquor  with 
which  it  is  first  impregnated. 

J^abtt Shakspeare. 

'THAT  monster,  Custom,  who  all  sense  doth  eat 

Of  Habit's  devil,  is  angel  yet  in  this; 
That  to  the  use  of  Actions  fair  and  good 
He  likewise  gives  a  frock,  or  livery, 
That  aptly  is  put  on ;  Refrain  to-night : 
And  that  shall  lend  a  kind  of  easiness 
To  the  next  Abstinence  :  the  next  more  easy  : 
For  Use  almost  can  change  the  stamp  of  nature, 
And  either  curb  the  Devil,  or  throw  him  out 
With  wondrous  potency. 

3Bappmej88.  —  From  the  French. 
THE  Happiness  of  the  human  race  in  this  world  does  not  consist 
in  our  being  devoid  of  Passions,  but  in  our  learning  to  command 
them. 

J^appmeSS.  —  Addison. 
TRUE  Happiness  is  of  a  retired  nature,  and  an  enemy  to  pomp 
and  noise;  it  arises,  in  the  first  place,  from  the  enjoyment  of 
one's  self:  and  in  the  next,  from  the  Friendship  and  Conversation 
of  a  few  select  Companions  :  false  Happiness  loves  to  be  in  a  crowd, 
and  to  draw  the  eyes  of  the  world  upon  her.  She  does  not  receive 
any  Satisfaction  from  the  applauses  which  she  gives  herself,  but 
from  the  admiration  which  she  raises  in  others. 

Jgapptne&S.  —  Shakspeare. 
THEY  are  as  sick  that  surfeit  with  too  much,  as  they  that  starve 
with    nothing :    It   is   no    mean    Happiness,   therefore,    to   be 
seated  in  the  mean  :  Superfluity  comes  sooner  by  white  hairs,  but 
Competency  lives  longer 


•210  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

JtJapphteSS.  —  Goldsmith. 
TT'VERY  mind  seems  capable  of  entertaining  a  certain  quantity 
of  Happiness,  which  no  institutions  can  increase,  no  circum- 
stances alter,  and  entirely  independent  on  Fortune.  Let  any  man 
compare  his  present  Fortune  with  the  past,  and  he  will  probably 
find  himself,  upon  the  whole,  neither  better  nor  worse  than  for- 
merly. 

ffltiippiMm*  —  Stede. 

TNDOLENCE  of  body  and  mind,  when  we  aim  at  no  more,  is 
very  frequently  enjoyed  ;  but  the  very  inquiry  after  Happiness 
has  something  restless  in  it,  which  a  man  who  lives  in  a  series  of 
temperate  meals,  friendly  conversations,  and  easy  slumbers,  gives 
himself  no  trouble  about  it.  While  men  of  Refinement  are  talking 
of  Tranquillity,  he  possesses  it. 

Jgappme**.  —  Thomson. 

"PVEN  not  all  these,  in  one  rich  lot  combined, 

Can  make  the  happy  man,  without  the  mind; 
Where  Judgment  sits  clear-sighted,  and  surveys 
The  Chain  of  Reason  with  unerring  gaze ; 
W7here  Fancy  lives,  and  to  the  brightening  eyes, 
His  fairer  scenes,  and  bolder  figures  rise ; 
Where  social  Love  exerts  her  soft  command, 
And  plays  the  Passions  with  a  tender  hand, 
Whence  every  Virtue  flows,  in  rival  strife, 
And  all  the  moral  Harmony  of  life. 

J^appmeSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
The  bitter  past,  more  welcome  is  the  Sweet. 

Jgapp  in  ess,—  Pope. 

CARDER  is  heaven's  first  law;  and  this  confest, 
Some  are,  and  must  be,  greater  than  the  rest, 
More  rich,  more  wise;  but  who  infers  from  hence 
That  such  are  happier,  shocks  all  common  sense. 
Heaven  to  mankind  impartial  we  confess, 
If  all  are  equal  in  their  Happiness  : 
But  mutual  wants  this  Happiness  increase 
All  Nature's  difference  keeps  all  Nature's  peace. 
Condition,  circumstance,  is  not  the  thing; 
Bliss  is  the  same  in  subject  or  in  King, 
In  who  obtain  defence,  or  who  defend, 
In  him  who  is,  or  him  who  finds  a  friend : 
Heaven  breathes  through  every  member  of  the  whole. 
One  common  blessing,  as  one  common  Soul. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  211 

ffiapptttCSS.—  La  Rochefoucauld. 
TT  is  a  kind  of  Happiness  to  know  to  what  extent  we  may  be 
unhappy. 

JgappmCSS.—  Mrs.  Tiglic. 

OH  happy  you  !  who,  blest  with  present  Bliss, 
See  not  with  fatal  prescience  future  tears, 

Nor  the  dear  moment  of  Enjoyment  miss 
Through  gloomy  Discontent,  or  sullen  Fears 
Foreboding  many  a  storm  for  coming  years  ; 

Change  is  the  lot  of  all.     Ourselves  with  scorn 
Perhaps  shall  view  what  now  so  fair  appears ; 

And  wonder  whence  the  fancied  Charm  was  born, 

Which  now  with  vain  Despair  from  our  fond  grasp  is  torn  ! 

Jftapp  meSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTIS  overthrow  heap'd  Happiness  upon  him ; 

For  then,  and  not  till  then,  he  felt  himself, 
And  found  the  Blessedness  of  being  little  : 
And,  to  add  greater  Honours  to  his  age 
Than  man  could  give  him,  he  died,  fearing  God. 

&aMint$B.  —  Greoitte. 

TTABDLY  a  man,  whatever  his  circumstances  and  situation,  but 
if  you  get  his  Confidence,  will  tell  you  that  he  is  not  happy. 
It  is  however  certain  all  men  are  not  unhappy  in  the  same  degree, 
though  by  these  accounts  we  might  almost  be  tempted  to  think  so. 
Is  not  this  to  be  accounted  for,  by  supposing  that  all  men  measure 
the  Happiness  they  possess  by  the  Happiness  they  desire,  or  think 
they  deserve. 

Ji)appmCSS.  —  Horace. 
"\yHAT  you  demand  is  here,  or  at  Ulubrae."     You  traverse  the 
world  in  search  of  Happiness,  which  is  within  the  reach  of 
every  man  ;  a  contented  Mind  confers  it  on  all. 

?i)appme£S.  —  Shakspeare. 
TyHAT  !  we  have  many  goodly  days  to  see  : 

The  liquid  drops  of  Tears  that  you  have  shed, 
Shall  come  again,  transform'd  to  orient  Pearl; 
Advantaging  their  loan,  with  interest 
Often-times-double  gain  of  Happiness. 

?t)appmC00.  —  Colton. 
TTAPPINESS  is  that  single  and  glorious  thing,  which  is  the 
very  Light  and  Sun  of  the  whole  animated  universe,  and 
where  she  is  not,  it  were  better  that  nothing  should  be.  Without 
hei,  Wisdom  is  but  a  shadow,  and  Virtue  a  name;  she  is  their 
sovereign  mistress. 


212  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Jgappme**.— Pope. 

HH,  Happiness !  our  being's  end  and  aim  ; 

Good,  Pleasure,  Ease,  Content, — whate'er  thy  name : 
That  something  still  which  prompts  th'  eternal  sigh, 
For  which  we  bear  to  live,  or  dare  to  die, 
Which  still  so  near  us,  yet  beyond  us  lies, 
O'erlook'd,  seen  double,  by  the  Fool  and  Wise : 
Plant  of  celestial  seed  !  if  dropp'd  below, 
Say  in  what  mortal  Soil  thou  deign' st  to  grow? 

?6apphtC!S!3.  —  Mrs.  TigJie. 

~U"AIN  schemer,  think  not  to  prolong  thy  Joy ! 
But  cherish  while  it  lasts  the  heavenly  boon ! 

Expand  thy  sails !  thy  little  bark  shall  fly 

With  the  full  tide  of  Pleasure  !  though  it  soon 
May  feel  the  influence  of  the  changeful  Moon, 

It  yet  is  thine  !  then  let  not  doubts  obscure 
With  cloudy  vapours  vail  thy  brilliant  Noon, 

Nor  let  Suspicion's  tainted  breath  impure 

Poison  the  favouring  gale  which  speeds  thy  course  secure  ! 

Jgappme00*  —  Coiton. 

TN  the  constitution  both  of  our  mind  and  of  our  body,  every  thing 
must  go  on  right,  and  harmonize  well  together  to  make  us 
happy  :  but  should  one  thing  go  wrong,  that  is  quite  enough  to 
make  us  miserable ;  and,  although  the  Joys  of  this  world  are  vain 
and  short,  yet  its  Sorrows  are  real  and  lasting;  for  I  will  show 
you  a  ton  of  perfect  Pain  with  greater  ease  than  one  ounce  of 
perfect  Pleasure ;  and  he  knows  little  of  himself,  or  of  the  world, 
who  does  not  think  it  sufficient  Happiness  to  be  free  from  Sorrow; 
therefore,  give  a  wise  man  Health,  and  he  will  give  himself  every 
other  thing. 

JgappmeiSS,  —  Cowper. 
T^HE  heart  is  hard  in  nature,  and  unfit 
For  human  fellowship,  as  being  void 
Of  Sympathy,  and  therefore  dead  alike 
To  Love  and  Friendship  both,  that  is  not  pleased 
With  sight  of  animals  enjoying  life, 
Nor  feels  their  Happiness  augment  his  own. 

i^appmcss,  —  Coiton. 

TTAPPINESS  is  much  more  equally  divided  than  some  of  us 
imagine.     One  man  shall  possess  most  of  the  Materials,  but 
little  of  the  Thing;  another  may  possess  much  of  the  Thing,  but 
very  few  of  the  Materials. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND   OLD.  213 

J^apptnCSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
T  EARN  that  I  eat,  get  that  I  wear;  owe  no  man  Hate,  envy  no 
man's  Happiness  ;  glad  of  other  men's  good;  content  with  my 
harm. 

Jgapp  mess.  —  Pope. 

[^NOW,  all  the  good  that  individuals  find, 

Or  God  and  Nature  meant  to  mere  mankind, 
Reason's  whole  pleasure,  all  the  joys  of  sense, 
Lie  in  three  words,  Health,  Peace,  and  Competence 
But  Health  consists  with  temperance  alone ; 
And  Peace,  0  Virtue !  Peace  is  all  thy  own. 
The  good  or  bad  the  gifts  of  Fortune  gain ; 
But  these  less  taste  them,  as  they  worse  obtain. 

J^appmrSS.  —  Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 
'THERE  is  no  man  but  may  make  his  Paradise, 

And  it  is  nothing  but  his  Love  and  Dotage 
Upon  the  World's  foul  joys,  that  keeps  him  out  on't; 
For  he  that  lives  retired  in  mind  and  spirit, 
Is  still  in  Paradise. 

#)apphuss.— Burns. 

'THINK  ye,  that  sic  as  you  and  I, 

Wha  drudge  and  drive  thro'  wet  and  dry, 

Wi'  never-ceasing  toil ; 
Think  ye,  are  we  less  blest  than  they, 
Wha  scarcely  tent  us  in  their  way, 

As  hardly  worth  their  while  ? 

?i)apptnCSS.  —  Dry  den. 
They  live  too  long,  who  Happiness  out-live : 
For  life  and  death  are  things  indifferent ; 
Each  to  be  chose,  as  either  brings  Content. 

JftappmeSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
OH,  how  bitter  a  thing  it  is  to  look  into  Happiness  through  an- 
other man's  eyes ! 

Ji^apptlteSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
CILENCE  is  the  perfected  herald  of  Joy  :  I  were  but  little  Happy, 
if  I  could  say  how  much. 

^appmeSS.  —  Burns. 
TTS  no'  in  Books,  its  no'  in  lear, 

To  make  us  truly  blest : 
If  Happiness  has  not  her  seat 

And  centre  in  the  Breast, 
We  may  be  wise,  or  rich  or  great, 

But  never  can  be  blest. 


214  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

?l]apptne0!5,  —Joanna  Baillie. 
'THE  Bliss  e'en  of  a  moment,  still  is  Bliss. 

Thou  wouldst  not  of  her  dew-drops  spoil  the  thorn 
Because  her  Glory  will  not  last  till  noon ; 
Nor  still  the  lightsome  gambols  of  the  Colt, 
Whose  neck  to-morrow's  joke  will  gall. 

Jftapptntm  —  Young. 
"TO'HAT  makes  Man  wretched  ?  Happiness  denied  ? 

No  :  His  Happiness  disdain'd. 
She  comes  too  meanly  drest  to  win  our  smile ; 
And  calls  herself  Content,  a  homely  name  ! 
Our  flame  is  Transport,  and  Conteut  our  scorn. 
Ambition  turns,  and  shuts  the  door  against  her, 
And  weds  a  Toil,  a  Tempest,  in  her  stead. 

?l}appm*m  —  Greville. 
T  KNOW  not  whether  the  truest  and  best  state  of  Nature  be  not 
a  state  of  more  Prejudice  and  Ignorance  than  we  are  aware  of. 

JgapptrteSS.  —JDuchesse  de  Praslin. 
(  )UR  Happiness  in  this  world  depends  on  the  affections  we  are 
enabled  to  inspire. 

?^appmeiS0.  —  Prudentius. 
"\\TE  thro'  this  maze  of  Life  one  Lord  obey, 

Whose  Light  and  Grace  unerring  lead  the  way. 
By  Hope  and  Faith  secure  of  future  bliss, 
Gladly  the  joys  of  present  Life  we  miss; 
For  baffled  mortals  still  attempt  in  vain, 
Present  and  future  Bliss  at  once  to  gain. 

JftappmeSS.  —  Shenstone. 
TT  is  one  species  of  Despair  to  have  no  room  to  hope  for  any  addi- 
tion to  one's  Happiness.     His  following  wish  must  then  be  to 
wish  he  had  some  fresh  object  for  his  wishes;  a  strong  Argument 
that  our  minds  and  bodies  were  both  meant  to  be  for  ever  active. 

JgappmeSg.  —  Sterne. 
A  LAS  !  if  the  principles  of  Contentment  are  not  within  us, — the 
height  of  Station  and  worldly  Grandeur  will  as  soon  add  a  cubit 
to  a  man's  stature  as  to  his  Happiness. 

Jgapp  mem  —Johnson. 
'THE  fountain  of  Content  must  spring  up  in  the  Mind ;  and  he, 
who  has  so  little  knowledge  of  human  nature,  as  to  seek  Hap- 
piness by  changing  any  thing  but  his  own  Dispositions,  will  waste 
his  life  in  fruitless  efforts,  and  multiply  the  Griefs  which  he  pur- 
poses to  remove. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD.  215 

JgapphUSS.—  Landor. 
/"J-OODNESS  does  not  more  certainly  make  men  happy,  than  Hap- 
piness makes  them  good.  We  must  distinguish  between  Feli- 
city and  Prosperity,  for  Prosperity  leads  often  to  Ambition,  and 
Ambition  to  Disappointment;  the  course  is  then  over,  the  wheel 
turns  round  but  once,  while  the  reaction  of  Goodness  and  Happi- 
ness is  perpetual. 

Jgappmess.—  Paiey. 

Happiness  consists  in  the  constitution  of  the  Habits. 

&Wppintf&.—Anon. 

TF  Happiness  were  an  attainment  of  the  Mind,  to  be  acquired  £S 
a  science  or  an  art  is  learnt  from  the  master,  the  teacher  might 
justly  be  considered  as  the  Vicegerent  of  God,  and  no  place  could 
contain  the  numbers  that  would  flock  to  his  School ;  but  in  this, 
the  Almighty  has  delegated  his  power  to  every  person  only  respect- 
ing himself. 

JfrappmeSg.  —  Seneca. 
T'HE  great  Blessings  of  mankind  are  within  us,  and  within  our 
reach,  but  we  shut  our  Eyes,  and,  like  people  in  the  dark,  we 
fall  foul  upon  the  very  thing  we  search  for,  without  finding  it. 

JtyapptrteSJEf.  —Addison. 
/CONTENTMENT  produces,  in  some  measure,  all  those  effects 
which  the  Alchemist  usually  ascribes  to  what  he  calls  the  Phi- 
losopher's Stone ;  and  if  it  does  not  bring  Riches,  it  does  the  same 
thing  by  banishing  the  desire  of  them. 

JftappmcSS.  —  Mackenzie. 
T  HAVE  observed  one  ingredient  somewhat  necessary  in  a  man's 
composition  toward  Happiness,  which  people  of  feeling  would 
do  well  to  acquire — a  certain  respect  for  the  follies  of  mankind  :  for 
there  are  so  many  Fools  whom  the  world  entitles  to  regard,  whom 
accident  has  placed  in  heights  of  which  they  are  unworthy,  that  he 
who  cannot  restrain  his  Contempt  or  Indignation  at  the  sight,  will 
be  too  often  quarrelling  with  the  disposal  of  things  to  relish  that 
share  which  is  allotted  to  himself. 

feappme**.—  Burton. 

A  S  the  Ivy  twines  around  the  Oak,  so  does  Misery  and  Misfortune 
encompass  the  Happiness  of  man.    Felicity,  pure  and  unalloyed 
Felicity,  is  not  a  plant  of  earthly  growth;  her  gardens  are  the 
Skies. 

JftappmeSS.  —  Longfellow. 
TTIE  rays  of  Happiness,  like  those  of  light,  are  colourless  when 
unbroken. 

t2 


216  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

%fy&ppint8n.  —  Seneca. 

pjE  must  be  Miserable  who  does  not  consider  himself  Happy, 
although  he  could  command  the  Universe ;  no  man  can  bo 
Happy  who  does  not  think  himself  so,  for  it  signifies  not  how 
exalted  soever  your  Station  may  be,  if  it  appears  to  you  bad. 

JgappmeSS.  —  Budgell. 
A  S  nothing  is  more  natural  than  for  every  one  to  desire  to  be 
happy,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  wisest  men  in  all 
ages  have  spent  so  much  time  to  discover  what  Happiness  is,  and 
wherein  it  chiefly  consists.  An  eminent  writer,  named  Varro, 
reckons  up  no  less  than  two  hundred  and  eighty-eight  different 
Opinions  upon  this  subject ;  and  another,  called  Lucian,  after 
having  given  us  a  long  catalogue  of  the  notions  of  several  philoso- 
phers, endeavours  to  show  the  Absurdity  of  all  of  them,  without 
establishing  any  thing  of  his  own. 

JftatfmeSS.  —  Shakspeare. 

Yet  famine, 
Ere  clean  it  o'erthrow  Nature,  makes  it  valiant. 
Plenty,  and  peace,  breeds  Cowards ;  Hardness  ever 
Of  Hardness  is  mother. 

J^at&ttegS.  —  Shakspeare. 
T  HAVE  almost  forgot  the  taste  of  Fears  : 

The  time  has  been,  my  senses  would  have  cool'd 
To  hear  a  night-shriek ;  and  my  fell  of  hair 
Would  at  a  dismal  treatise  rouse,  and  stir 
As  life  were  in't :  I  have  supp'd  full  of  Horrors; 
Direness,  familiar  to  my  slaughterous  Thoughts, 
Cannot  once  start  me. 

W§Z  J^adOt—  Shakspeare. 

'Tis  the  Strumpet's  plague, 
To  beguile  many,  and  be  beguiled  by  one. 

Jgatteu"*  —  Plutarch. 
TF  you  hate  your  Enemies,  you  will  contract  such  a  vicious  habit 
of  mind,  as  by  degrees  will  break  out  upon  those  who  are  your 
Friends,  or  those  who  are  indifferent  to  you. 

Jftattru'.  —  La  Brut/ere. 
T^HE  passion  of  Hatred  is  so  durable,  and  so  inveterate,  that  the 
surest  prognostic  of  Death  in  a  sick  man  is  a  wish  for  Reconci- 
liation. 

Jftatretr.  —  Tacitus. 
TT  is  the  nature  of  the  human  disposition  to  Hate  him  whom  you 
have  injured. 


OR,     THINGS    NEW    AND     OLD.  217 

^atECu'. — La  Rochefoucauld. 
When  our  Hatred  is  too  keen,  it  places  us  beneath  those  we  hate. 

J^atrefo.  —  La  Brmjere. 
TO  be  deprived  of  the  person  we  love,  is  a  Happiness  in  com- 
parison of  living  with  one  we  hate. 

#)atteK—  Byron. 
T\TARP'D  by  the  world  in  Disappointment's  school, 

In  words  too  wise,  in  conduct  there  a  fool; 
Too  firm  to  yield,  and  far  too  proud  to  stoop, 
Doom'd  by  his  very  virtues  for  a  dupe, 
He  cursed  those  Virtues  as  the  cause  of  ill, 
And  not  the  traitors  who  betray'd  him  still ; 
Nor  deem'd  that  gifts  bestow' d  on  better  men, 
Had  left  him  joy,  and  means  to  give  again. 
Fear'd,  shunn'd,  belied,  ere  Youth  had  lost  her  force, 
He  hated  man  too  much  to  feel  Remorse, 
And  thought  the  voice  of  Wrath  a  sacred  call, 
To  pay  the  Injuries  of  some  on  all. 

JftcaltJ).  —  Sir  W.  Temple. 
HTHE  only  way  for  a  rich  man  to  be  healthy  is,  by  Exercise  and 
Abstinence,  to  live  as  if  he  was  poor. 

Jftealtf).  —  ShaJcspeare. 
JNFIRMITY  doth  still  neglect  all  office 

Whereto  our  Health  is  bound ;  we  are  not  ourselves 
When  Nature,  being  oppress' d,  commands  the  mind 
To  suffer  with  the  body. 

ffit&ltfy.— Johnson. 
TTEALTH  is  certainly  more  valuable  than  Money,  because  it  is  by 

Health  that  Money  is  procured;  but  thousands  and  millions 
are  of  small  avail  to  alleviate  the  protracted  tortures  of  the  Gout, 
to  repair  the  broken  organs  of  sense,  or  resuscitate  the  powers  of 
Digestion.  Poverty  is,  indeed,  an  evil  from  which  we  naturally 
fly ;  but  let  us  not  run  from  one  enemy  to  another,  nor  take  shelter 
iu  the  arms  of  Sickness. 

$}ealtf).  —  Sterne. 
Q  BLESSED  Health  !  thou  art  above  all  Gold  and  Treasure  j 

'tis  thou  who  enlargest  the  Soul,  and  openest  all  its  powers 
to  receive  instruction,  and  to  relish  Virtue. — He  that  has  thee  has 
little  more  to  wish  for !  and  he  that  is  so  wretched  as  to  want  thee, 
wants  every  thing  with  thee. 

jgealtf)*—  Churchill. 

The  surest  road  to  Health,  say  what  they  will, 
Is  never  to  suppose  we  shall  be  ill. 


218  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Itycaltfy.  —  Litcan. 

Thou  chiefest  Good ! 
Bestow'd  by  Heaven,  but  seldom  understood. 

Jgealtf).  —  Sir  W.  Temple. 
□HEALTH  is  the  soul  that  animates  all  enjoyments  of  life,  which 
fade,  and  are  tasteless,  if  not  dead,  without  it :  a  man  starves 
at  the  best  and  the  greatest  Tables,  makes  faces  at  the  noblest  and 
most  delicate  Wines,  is  old  and  impotent  in  Seraglios  of  the  most 
sparkling  beauties,  poor  and  wretched  in  the  midst  of  the  greatest 
treasures  and  fortunes;  with  common  diseases  Strength  grows  de- 
crepit, Youth  loses  all  vigour,  and  Beauty  all  charms;  Music 
grows  harsh,  and  Conversation  disagreeable ;  Palaces  are  prisons, 
or  of  equal  confinement ;  Riches  are  useless,  Honour  and  Attend- 
ance are  cumbersome,  and  crowns  themselves  are  a  burden  :  but 
if  Diseases  are  painful  and  violent,  they  equal  all  conditions  of 
life,  make  no  difference  between  a  Prince  and  a  Beggar ;  and  a  fit 
of  the  stone  or  the  colic  puts  a  King  to  the  rack,  and  makes  him 
as  miserable  as  he  can  do  the  meanest,  the  worst,  and  most  criminal 
of  his  subjects. 

Jgealtj)-—  Martial. 
For  Life  is  not  to  live,  but  to  be  Well. 

Jgealtfj.  —  Clcmdian. 

XT  AIL,  greatest  Good  Dardanian  fields  bestow, 

At  whose  command  Paeonian  waters  flow ; 
Unpurchased  Health  !  that  dost  thy  aid  impart 
Both  to  the  Patient  and  the  Doctor's  art ! 

J^ealtf) — Colton. 
THERE  is  this  difference  between  those  two  temporal  blessings, 
Health  and  Money :  Money  is  the  most  envied,  but  the  least 
enjoyed;  Health  is  the  most  enjoyed,  but  the  least  envied:  and 
this  superiority  of  the  latter  is  still  more  obvious  when  we  reflect, 
that  the  poorest  man  would  not  part  with  Health  for  Money,  but 
that  the  richest  would  gladly  part  with  all  their  Money  for  Health. 

jgealtf).— Colton. 

A  NGUISH  of  Mind  has  driven  thousands  to  suicide;  Anguish  of 

Body,  none.     This  proves  that  the  Health  of  the  Mind  is  of 

far  more  consequence  to  our  Happiness  than  the  Health  of  the 

Body,  although  both  are  deserving  of  much  more  attention  than 

either  of  them  receives. 

^ealtf)-  —  Sterne. 
PEOPLE  who  are  always  taking  care  of  their  Health  are  like 
misers,  who  are  hoarding  up  a  treasure  which  they  have  never 
spirit  enough  to  enjoy. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND   OLD.  219 

J^Ctlltf).  — La  Rochefoucauld. 
"PRESERVING  the  Health  by  too  strict  a  regimen  is  a  wearisome 
Malady. 

J^ealtf),  —  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 
Great  Temp' ranee,  open  air, 
Easy  labour,  little  Care. 

Cf)e  yfyZWtt  —  Shakspeare. 
All  offences  come  from  the  Heart. 

Q&xeat  QltaXtX.—Bi/ron. 

Look  on  me  !  there  is  an  order 
Of  mortals  on  the  earth,  who  do  become 
Old  in  their  youth,  and  die  ere  middle  age, 
Without  the  violence  of  warlike  Death ; 
Some  perishing  of  Pleasure — some  of  Study — 
Some  worn  with  Toil — some  of  mere  weariness- 
Some  of  Disease — and  some  of  Insanity — 
And  some  of  wither' d,  or  of  broken  Hearts; 
For  this  last  is  a  malady  which  slays 
More  than  are  number'd  in  the  lists  of  Fate, 
Taking  all  shapes,  and  bearing  many  names. 

tytabtU.  —  Lavater. 
THE  Generous  who  is  always  Just,  and  the  Just  who  is  always 
Generous,  may,  unannounced,  approach  the  throne  of  Heaven. 

SKabntlj)  Hobe.  —  Edwards. 
"pVERY  saint  in  Heaven  is  as  a  flower  in  the  garden  of  God,  and 
holy  love  is  the  fragrance  and  sweet  odour  that  they  all  send 
forth,  and  with  which  they  fill  the  bowers  of  that  paradise  above. 
Every  soul  there  is  as  a  note  in  some  concert  of  delightful  music, 
that  sweetly  harmonizes  with  every  other  note,  and  all  together 
blend  in  the  most  rapturous  strains  in  praising  God  and  the  Lamb 
for  ever. 

Cf)e  #}Cabcn0.—  Young. 
QNE  Sun  by  day,  by  night  ten  thousand  shine ; 

And  light  us  deep  into  the  Deity ; 
How  boundless  in  Magnificence  and  Might ! 
Oh  what  a  confluence  of  ethereal  Fires, 
From  urns  unnumber'd,  down  the  steep  of  Heaven, 
Streams  to  a  point,  and  centers  in  my  sight ! 
Nor  tarries  there ;  I  feel  it  at  my  Heart ; 
My  Heart,  at  once,  it  humbles  and  exalts; 
Lays  it  in  dust,  and  calls  it  to  the  Skies. 


w 


220  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Cfje  ^eabens,  —  Byron. 

VE  Stars  !  which  are  the  poetry  of  Heaven, 

If  in  your  bright  leaves  we  would  read  the  Fate 
Of  men  and  empires, — 'tis  to  be  forgiven, 
That  in  our  Aspirations  to  be  great, 
Our  destinies  o'erleap  their  mortal  state, 
And  claim  a  kindred  with  you ;  for  ye  are 

A  Beauty  and  a  Mystery,  and  create 
In  us  such  love  and  reverence  from  afar, 
That  Fortune,  Fame,  Power,  Life,  have  named  themselves  a  star. 

Cfje  J^eabens.— Pope. 

Nature,  and  Nature's  laws,  lay  hid  in  night; 
God  said,  let  Newton  be ;  and  all  was  Light. 

C f)e  J^eabettS,  —  Young. 
HAT  involution  !  what  extent !  what  swarms 
Of  worlds,  that  laugh  at  Earth  !  immensely  great ! 
Immensely  distant  from  each  other's  spheres; 
What  then  the  wond'rous  Space  through  which  they  roll  ? 
At  once  it  quite  engulfs  all  human  thought; 
'Tis  comprehension's  absolute  Defeat. 

C f)e  ?$eabett!5.  —  Young. 
HPHIS  Prospect  vast,  what  is  it  ? — weigh'd  aright, 

'Tis  Nature's  system  of  Divinity, 
And  every  student  of  the  Night  inspires. 
'Tis  elder  Scripture,  writ  by  God's  own  hand : 
Scripture  authentic  !  uncorrupt  by  man. 

WtyZ  ^eabemi,  —  Byron. 

Oh,  thou  beautiful 
And  unimaginable  Ether !  and 
Ye  multiplying  masses  of  increased 
And  still-increasing  Lights  !  what  are  ye  ?  what 
Is  this  blue  wilderness  of  interminable 
Air,  where  ye  roll  along,  as  I  have  seen 
The  leaves  along  the  limpid  streams  of  Eden  ? 
Is  your  course  measured  for  ye  ?  Or  do  ye 
Sweep  on  in  your  unbounded  Revelry 
Through  an  aerial  universe  of  endless 
Expansion,  at  which  my  soul  aches  to  think, 
Intoxicated  with  Eternity  ? 
0  God  !  0  Gods  !  or  whatsoe'er  ye  are  ! 
How  beautiful  ye  are  !  how  beautiful 
Your  works,  or  accident,  or  whatsoe'er 
They  may  be !  Let  me  die,  as  atoms  die, 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  221 

(If  that  they  die,)  or  know  ye  in  your  Might 
And  Knowledge  !  My  thoughts  are  not  in  this  hour 
Unworthy  what  I  see,  though  my  dust  is; 
Spirit !  let  me  expire,  or  see  them  nearer. 

Cf)e  JgerO.—  Byron. 
A  LL  these  he  wielded  to  command  assent : 

But  where  he  wish'd  to  win,  so  well  unbent, 
That  kindness  cancell'd  Fear  in  those  who  heard, 
And  others'  gifts  show'd  mean  beside  his  word, 
When  echoed  to  the  Heart  as  from  his  own, 
His  deep  yet  tender  melody  of  tone  : 
But  such  was  foreign  to  his  wonted  mood, 
He  cared  not  what  he  soften'd,  but  subdued ; 
The  evil  passions  of  his  youth  had  made 
Him  value  less  who  loved — than  what  obey'd. 

2Tf)e  Q}CX0.— Churchill 
THINGS  of  the  noblest  kind  his  Genius  drew, 

And  look'd  through  Nature  at  a  single  view : 
A  loose  he  gave  to  his  unbounded  Soul, 
And  taught  new  lands  to  rise,  new  seas  to  roll ; 
Call'd  into  being  scenes  unknown  before, 
And,  passing  Nature's  bounds,  was  something  more. 

Cf)e  Q}tZ0.— Byron. 
Well  had  he  learn'd  to  curb  the  crowd, 
By  arts  that  vail,  and  oft  preserve  the  proud; 
His  was  the  lofty  Port,  the  distant  Mien, 
That  seems  to  shun  the  sight — and  awes  if  seen  : 
The  solemn  Aspect,  and  the  high-born  Eye, 
That  checks  low  tnirth,  but  lacks  not  Courtesy. 

€f)e  Jftero.  —  Scott. 

"PROUD  was  his  Tone,  but  calm ;  his  Eye 

Had  that  compelling  Dignity, 
His  Mien  that  bearing  haught  and  high, 
Which  common  spirits  fear. 

Cf)e  JftcrO.—  Byron. 
;rriS  thus  the  spirit  of  a  single  mind 

Makes  that  of  multitudes  take  one  direction, 
As  roll  the  waters  to  the  breathing  wind, 

Or  roams  the  herd  beneath  the  bull's  protection ; 
Or  as  a  little  dog  will  lead  the  blind, 

Or  a  bell-wether  form  the  flock's  connection, 
By  tinkling  sounds,  when  they  go  forth  to  victual;— 
Such  is  the  sway  of  your  Great  Men  o'er  little. 


222  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Cf)e  Jl^ttU  —  Byron. 
They  crouch'd  to  him,  for  he  had  Skill 
To  warp  and  wield  the  vulgar  will. 

Cje  fyttO.  — Byron. 
THAT  Man  of  loneliness  and  mystery, 

Scarce  seen  to  smile,  and  seldom  heard  to  sigh; 
Whose  name  appals  the  fiercest  of  his  crew, 
And  tints  each  swarthy  cheek  with  sallower  hue ; 
Still  sways  their  Souls  with  that  commanding  art 
That  dazzles,  leads,  yet  chills  the  vulgar  heart. 
What  is  that  Spell,  that  thus  his  lawless  train 
Confess  and  envy,  yet  oppose  in  vain  ? 
What  should  it  be  that  thus  their  faith  can  bind  ? 
The  power  of  Thought — the  magic  of  the  Mind  ! 
Link'd  with  success,  assumed  and  kept  with  skill, 
That  moulds  another's  weakness  to  its  will; 
Wields  with  their  hands,  but,  still  to  these  unknown, 
Makes  even  their  mightiest  deeds  appear  his  own. 
Such  hath  it  been — shall  be — beneath  the  sun 
The  many  still  must  labour  for  the  one  ! 
'Tis  Nature's  doom — but  let  the  wretch  who  toils 
Accuse  not,  hate  not  him  who  wears  the  spoils ; 
Oh  !  if  he  knew  the  Weight  of  splendid  chains, 
How  light  the  Balance  of  his  humbler  pains ! 

JL^tOtSm"*  —  Shakspeare. 
1"  HAVE,  thou  gallant  Trojan,  seen  thee  oft, 

Labouring  for  destiny,  make  cruel  way 
Through  ranks  of  G-reekish  youth  :  and  I  have  seen  thee, 
As  hot  as  Perseus,  spur  thy  Phrygian  steed, 
Despising  many  forfeits  and  subduements, 
When  thou  hast  hung  thy  advanced  sword  i'  the  air, 
Nor  letting  it  decline  on  the  declined ; 
That  I  have  said  to  some  my  standers-by, 
Lo,  Jupiter  is  yonder,  dealing  life ! 
And  I  have  seen  thee  pause,  and  take  thy  breath, 
When  that  a  ring  of  Grreeks  have  hemm'd  thee  in, 
Like  an  Olympian  wrestling. 

Jgerotsm,—  Coiton. 

"y\TE  cannot  think  too  highly  of  our  Nature,  nor  too  humbly  of 
ourselves.  When  we  see  the  Martyr  to  Virtue;  subject  as  he 
is  to  the  infirmities  of  a  man,  yet  suffering  the  tortures  of  a  demon, 
and  bearing  them  with  the  magnanimity  of  a  God,  do  we  not  be- 
hold a  Heroism  that  angels  may  indeed  surpass,  but  which  they 
cannot  imitate,  and  must  admire. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  223 

PetSOttal  2£>tSt0rp*  —  La  Bruyere. 

A  N  old  Courtier,  with  veracity,  good  sense,  and  a  faithful  me- 
mory, is  an  inestimable  treasure  :  he  is  full  of  transactions  and 
maxims ;  in  him  one  may  find  the  History  of  the  Age,  enriched 
with  a  great  many  curious  circumstances,  which  we  never  meet 
with  in  books. 

&0e  Of  ffitStOrg.  —  Tacitus. 
THIS  I  hold  to  be  the  chief  office  of  History,  to  rescue  virtuous 
actions  from  the  oblivion  to  which  a  want  of  Records  would 
consign  them,  and  that  men  should  feel  a  dread  of  being  considered 
infamous  in  the  opinions  of  Posterity,  from  their  depraved  expres- 
sions and  base  actions. 

JftollOtoneSS.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
THERE  are  no  tricks  in  plain  and  simple  Faith : 

But  hollow  men,  like  Horses  hot  at  hand, 
Make  gallant  show  and  promise  of  their  mettle  : 
But  when  they  should  endure  the  bloody  spur, 
They  fall  their  crests,  and,  like  deceitful  Jades, 
Sink  in  the  Trial. 

Jft0l|>  &&lat,  —  ShaJcspeare. 
THEN  if  you  fight  against  God's  enemy, 

God  will  in  justice  ward  you  as  his  soldiers. 
If  you  do  swear  to  put  a  Tyrant  down, 
You  sleep  in  peace,  the  tyrant  being  slain. 
If  you  do  fight  against  your  Country's  foes, 
Your  Country's  Fat  shall  pay  your  pains  the  Hire. 
If  you  do  fight  in  safeguard  of  your  Wives, 
Your  wives  shall  welcome  home  the  conquerors. 
If  you  do  free  your  Children  from  the  sword, 
Your  children's  children  quit  it  in  your  Age. 

tyome.— Burns. 
AT  length  his  lonely  Cot  appears  in  view, 

Beneath  the  shelter  of  an  aged  tree; 
Th'  expectant  wee  things,  todlin,  stacher  through 
To  meet  their  Dad,  wi'  flichterin  noise  and  glee. 
His  wee-bit  ingle  blinkin  bonnilie, 

His  clean  hearth-stane,  his  thrifty  Wine's  smile, 
The  lisping  infant  prattling  on  his  knee, 

Does  a'  his  weary  kiaugh  and  care  beguile, 
And  makes  him  quite  forget  his  labour  and  his  toil. 

$$OVM.  —  Shenstone. 

THE  proper  means  of  increasing  the  love  we  bear  our  Native 
Country,  is  to  reside  some  time  in  a  foreign  one. 

U 


224  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Jgome.—  Byron. 

pTE  enter'd  in  his  house — his  Home  no  more, 

For  without  Hearts  there  is  no  Home ; — and  felt 
The  solitude  of  passing  his  own  door 
Without  a  Welcome. 

JgOm*,  —  Moore. 

C\  Nature  !  though  blessed  and  bright  are  thy  rajs, 
O'er  the  brow  of  Creation  enchantingly  thrown, 
Yet  faint  are  they  all  to  the  lustre,  that  plays 

In  a  smile  from  the  Heart  that  is  dearly  our  own ! 

JtJOme.—  Goldsmith. 
TN  all  my  wanderings  round  this  world  of  care, 

In  all  my  Griefs — and  God  has  given  my  share — 
I  still  had  hopes  my  latest  hours  to  crown, 
Amidst  these  humble  Bowers  to  lay  me  down ; 
To  husband  out  life's  taper  at  the  close, 
And  keep  the  flame  from  wasting,  by  repose : 
I  still  had  hopes,  for  pride  attends  us  still, 
Amidst  the  swains  to  show  my  book-learn'd  skill, 
Around  my  fire  an  evening  group  to  draw, 
And  tell  of  all  I  felt,  and  all  I  saw ; 
And  as  a  hare,  whom  hounds  and  horns  pursue, 
Pants  to  the  place  from  whence  at  first  she  flew, 
I  still  had  hopes,  my  long  vexations  past, 
Here  to  return — and  die  at  Home  at  last. 

p^Clttte.  —  Hannah  More. 
HPHE  angry  word  suppress'd,  the  taunting  thought; 

Subduing  and  subdued,  the  petty  strife, 
Which  clouds  the  colour  of  domestic  Life ; 
The  sober  comfort,  all  the  peace  which  springs 
From  the  large  aggregate  of  little  things ) 
On  these  small  cares  of  daughter,  wife,  or  friend, 
The  almost  sacred  joys  of  Home  depend. 

Jl^Ome.—  Mrs.  Opie. 
TTENCE  far  from  me,  ye  senseless  joys, 

That  fade  before  ye  reach  the  Heart, — 
The  crowded  dome's  distracted  noise, 

Where  all  is  pomp  and  useless  art ! 
Give  me  my  Home,  to  quiet  dear, 

Where  hours  untold  and  peaceful  move; 
So  fate  ordain  I  sometimes  there 
May  hear  the  Voice  of  him  I  love. 


J 


n 

OR,    THIXGS   NEW  AXD    OLD.  225 

gO«te .  —  Thomson. 

'THE  touch  of  kindred  too  and  love  he  feels; 
The  modest  eye,  whose  beams  on  his  alone 
Ecstatic  shine  :  the  little  strong  embrace 
Of  prattling  children,  twined  around  his  neck, 
And  emulous  to  please  him,  calling  forth 
The  fond  paternal  soul.     Nor  purpose  gay, 
Amusement,  dance,  or  song,  he  sternly  scorns; 
For  Happiness  and  true  Philosophy 
Are  of  the  social,  still,  and  smiling  kind. 
This  is  the  Life  which  those  who  fret  in  guilt, 
And  guilty  cities,  never  know ;  the  life, 
Led  by  primeval  ages,  uncorrupt, 
When  angels  dwelt,  and  God  himself,  with  man  ! 

JgOtne.  —  Young. 
The  first  sure  symptom  of  a  mind  in  Health, 
Is  rest  of  heart,  and  pleasure  felt  at  Home. 

J^OmC  —  Southey. 

"pAREWELL  my  Home,  my  Home  no  longer  now, 
Witness  of  many  a  calm  and  happy  day; 

And  thou,  fair  eminence,  upon  whose  brow 
Dwells  the  last  sunshine  of  the  evening  ray. 

Farewell !   Mine  eyes  no  longer  shall  pursue 
The  westering  sun  beyond  the  utmost  height, 
When  slowly  he  forsakes  the  fields  of  light. 

No  more  the  freshness  of  the  falling  dew, 

Cool  and  delightful  here  shall  bathe  my  head, 
As  from  this  western  window  dear,  I  lean 
Listening  the  while  I  watch  the  placid  scene, — 

The  martins  twittering  underneath  the  shed. 

Farewell  my  Home,  where  many  a  day  has  past 

In  joys  whose  loved  Remembrance  long  shall  last. 

^OUeStn.  _  SAakspeare. 
THHERE  is  no  terror  in  your  threats; 

For  I  am  arm'd  so  strong  in  Honesty, 
That  they  pa^s  by  me  as  the  idle  wind, 
Which  I  respect  not. 

itt>OlteSt|).  —  Howe. 
The  brave  do  never  shun  the  Light; 
Just  are  their  thoughts,  and  open  are  their  tempers; 
Freely  without  Disguise  they  love  or  hate  : 
Still  are  they  found  in  the  fair  face  of  day, 
And  Heaven  and  Men  are  Judges  of  their  actions. 

15 


226  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

J&mejstg.  —  coiton. 

"V'OTHING  more  completely  baffles  one  who  is  full  of  trick  and 
Duplicity  himself,  than  straightforward  and  simple  Integrity 
in  another.  A  knave  would  rather  quarrel  with  a  brother-knave, 
than  with  a  Fool,  but  he  would  rather  avoid  a  quarrel  with  one 
Honest  Man,  than  with  both.  He  can  combat  a  Fool  by  manage- 
ment and  address,  and  he  can  conquer  a  Knave  by  temptations. 
But  the  Honest  Man  is  neither  to  be  bamboozled  nor  bribed. 

J^OtteStg.  —  Cowley. 
'THE  best  kind  of  Glory  is  that  which  is  reflected  from  Honesty, 
such  as  was  the  glory  of  Cato  and  Aristides;  but  it  was  harmful 
to  them  both,  and  is  seldom  beneficial  to  any  man  while  he  lives. 

J^OtteStg.  —  Socrates. 
'THE   shortest  and  surest  way  to  live  with  Honour  in  the  world, 
is  to  be  in  reality  what  we  would  appear  to  be ;  and  if  we  ob- 
serve, we  shall  find,  that  all  human  Virtues  increase  and  strengthen 
themselves  by  the  practice  and  Experience  of  them. 

ffiOtteStg.  —  Shakspeare. 
T^HILE  others  fish  with  craft  for  great  opinion, 

I  with  great  Truth  catch  mere  Simplicity ; 
Whilst  some  with  Cunning  gild  their  copper  crowns, 
With  Truth  and  Plainness  I  do  wear  mine  bare. 
Fear  not  my  Truth ;  the  moral  of  my  Wit 
Is — plain,  and  true, — there's  all  the  reach  of  it. 

J^OneStg,  —  Cicero. 
XTTHAT  is  becoming  is  Honest,  and  whatever  is  Honest  must 
always  be  becoming. 

J^OneStg.  —  SJiakspeare. 
T>ECAUSE  I  cannot  flatter,  and  speak  fair, 

Smile  in  men's  faces,  smooth,  deceive,  and  cog, 
Duck  with  French  nods  and  apish  Courtesy, 
I  must  be  held  a  rancorous  enemy. 
Cannot  a  plain  man  live,  and  think  no  Harm, 
But  thus  his  simple  Truth  must  be  abused 
By  silken,  sly,  insinuating  Jacks  ? 

J^OtteStg*  —  Shakspeare. 
An  Honest  Man  is  able  to  speak  for  himself,  when  a  Knave  is  not. 

?^0nCStJ>.  —  Montaigne. 
A  LL  other  Knowledge  is  hurtful  to  him  who  has  not  Honesty 
and  good-nature. 

JjgOneStg.  —  Shakspeare. 
nPO  be  Honest,  as  this  World  goes,  is  to  be  one  man  picked  cut 
of  ten  thousand. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  227 

pjSOtteStfg.  —  Lamier. 
TTE  who  freely  praises  what  he  means  to  purchase,  and  he  who 
enumerates  the  Faults  of  what  he  means  to  sell,  may  set  up  a 
partnership  with  Honesty. 

JftOtteStp.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTIS  nature  is  too  noble  for  the  World  : 

He  would  not  flatter  Neptune  for  his  trident, 
Or  Jove  for  his  power  to  thunder.     His  Heart's  his  mouth  : 
What  his  Breast  forges,  that  his  tongue  must  vent; 
And  being  angry,  does  forget  that  ever 
He  heard  the  name  of  Death. 

iftonCStJ).  —  Shakspeare. 

Never  any  thing  can  be  amiss, 
When  Simpleness  and  Duty  tender  it. 

J^CmeStp.  —  Colton. 
TT  is  much  easier  to  ruin  a  man  of  principle,  than  a  man  of  none, 
for  he  may  be  ruined  through  his  Scruples.     Knavery  is  supple, 
and  can  bend,  but  Honesty  is  firm  and  upright,  and  yields  not. 

?i)0neStg.  —  Shaftesbury. 

A    RIGHT  mind   and  generous  affection  hath  more  Beauty  and 

charms  than  all  other  symmetries  in  the  world  besides;  and  a 

grain  of  Honesty  and  native  Worth  is  of  more  value  than  all  the 

adventitious  ornaments,  estates,  or  preferments;  for  the  sake  of 

which  some  of  the  better  sort  so  oft  turn  Knaves. 

J6<mWt2|.  —  Shenstone. 
TT  should  seem  that  Indolence  itself  would  incline  a  person  to  be 
Honest,  as  it  requires  infinitely  greater  pains  and  contrivance  to 
be  a  Knave. 

$O1tt0tg FranHin. 

T  ET  Honesty  be  as  the  breath  of  thy  soul,  and  never  forget  to 
have  a  penny,  when  all  thy  expenses  are  enumerated  and  paid  : 
then  shalt  thou  reach  the  point  of  Happiness,  and  independence 
shall  be  thy  shield  and  buckler,  thy  helmet  and  crown;  then  shall 
thy  Soul  walk  upright,  nor  stoop  to  the  silken  wretch  because  he 
hath  riches,  nor  pocket  an  Abuse  because  the  hand  which  offers  it 
wears  a  ring  set  with  Diamonds. 

J^OnOUr.  —  Dry  den. 

Woman's  Honour, 
Is  nice  as  Ermine,  will  not  bear  a  soil. 

J^OnOUX—  Shakspeare. 
Mine  Honour  is  my  Life;  both  grow  in  one ; 
Take  Honour  from  me,  and  my  Life  is  done, 
o  2 


228        ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

honour.  —  Byron. 

Where  is  Honour, 
Innate  and  precept-strengthen'd,  'tis  the  rock 
Of  Faith  connubial :  where  it  is  not — where 
Light  thoughts  are  lurking,  or  the  vanities 
Of  worldly  pleasure  rankle  in  the  heart, 
Or  sensual  throbs  convulse  it,  well  I  know 
;Twere  hopeless  for  Humanity  to  dream 
Of  Honesty  in  such  infected  blood, 
Although  'twere  wed  to  him  it  covets  most. 

JgOnOUX  —  Shakspeare. 
~RY  Jove  I  am  not  covetous  of  Gold, 

Nor  care  I,  who  doth  feed  upon  my  cost; 
It  yearns  me  not  if  men  my  garments  wear; 
Such  outward  things  dwell  not  in  my  desires: 
But,  if  it  be  a  sin  to  covet  Honour, 
I  am  the  most  offending  soul  alive. 

Concur.—  Coiton. 

TTONOUR  is  unstable,  and  seldom  the  same;  for  she  feeds  upon 
Opinion,  and  is  as  fickle  as  her  food.  She  builds  a  lofty  struc- 
ture on  the  sandy  foundation  of  the  esteem  of  those  who  are  of  all 
beings  the  most  subject  to  change.  But  Virtue  is  uniform  and 
fixed,  because  she  looks  for  approbation  only  from  Him  who  is  the 
Banie  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever. 

JgOltOUt:.—  Shakspeare. 
If  well-respected  Honour  bid  me  on, 
I  hold  as  little  counsel  with  weak  fear, 
As  you. 

J^MtOUt-  —  Shakspeare. 

The  mere  word's  a  slave, 
Debauch'd  on  every  Tomb;  on  every  grave, 
A  lying  Trophy  ;  and  as  oft  is  dumb, 
Where  dust,  and  damn'd  oblivion,  is  the  Tomb 
Of  honour'd  bones  indeed. 

JgCttrjUr,  —  Phcedrus. 
'THE  Athenians  erected  a  large  statue  to  iEsop,  and  placed  him, 
though  a  Slave,  on  a  lasting  pedestal;  to  show  that  the  way 
to  Honour  lies  open  indifferently  to  all. 

^OnOUr.  —  Shakspeare. 

What  I  did,  I  did  in  Honour, 
Led  by  th'  impartial  conduct  of  my  soul ; 
And  never  shall  you  see,  that  I  will  beg 
A  ragged  and  forestall' d  remission. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  229 

Ji)OnOttrS.—  La  Bruyere. 
'THERE  is  what  is  called  the  highway  to  Posts  and  Honours, 
and  there  is  a  cross  and  by-way,  which  is  much  the  shortest. 

J$npe._  YonKnebel. 
TRUE  Hope  is  based  on  energy  of  character.  A  strong  mind 
always  hopes,  and  has  always  cause  to  hope,  because  it  knows 
the  Mutability  of  human  affairs,  and  how  slight  a  circumstance  may 
change  the  whole  course  of  events.  Such  a  spirit  too  rests  upon 
itself;  it  is  not  confined  to  partial  views,  or  to  one  particular  ob- 
ject. And  if  at  last  all  should  be  lost,  it  has  saved  itself- — its  own 
integrity  and  worth.  Hope  awakens  Courage,  while  Despondency 
is  the  last  of  all  evils  ;  it  is  the  abandonment  of  good, — the  giving 
up  of  the  battle  of  life  with  dead  nothingness.  He  who  can  im- 
plant Courage  in  the  human  soul  is  the  best  physician. 

J^Ope.  —  From  the  French. 
Hope  is  the  Dream  of  a  waking  man. 

J^Ope.  —  Cowley. 
JJOPE  !  Fortune's  cheating  lottery  ! 

Where  for  one  prize  a  hundred  blanks  there  be; 
Fond  archer,  Hope  !  who  takest  thy  aim  so  far, 
That  still  or  short  or  wide  thine  Arrows  are ! 

Ji)0pe.  —  Spenser. 
Hope  in  rancke,  a  handsome  mayd, 

Of  chearefull  looke  and  lovely  to  behold ; 
In  silken  samite  she  was  light  arayd, 

And  her  fayre  locks  were  woven  up  in  Gold. 

She  always  smyld,  and  in  her  hand  did  hold 
An  holy-water  sprinckle,  dipt  in  deowe, 

With  which  she  sprinkled  Favours  manifold 
On  whom  she  list,  and  did  great  liking  sheowe, 
Great  liking  unto  many,  but  true  love  to  feowe. 

?!}0pe.  — Leighton. 
A   LIVING  Hope,  living  in  Death  itself.     The  world  dares  say 
no  more  for  its  device  than  dum  spiro  spero,  (whilst  I  breathe 
I  hope;)  but  the  children  of  God  can  add,  by  virtue  of  this  living 
Hope,  dum  expiro  spero,  (whilst  I  expire  I  hope.) 

J^OPC.  —  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
7N  the  treatment  of  nervous  cases,  he  is  the  best  Physician  who 
is  the  most  ingenious  inspirer  of  Hope. 

?^0pe,  —  Hume. 
J^  PROPENSITY  to  Hope  and  Joy  is  real  riches ;  one  to  Fear 
and  Sorrow,  real  poverty. 


230  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

Ji)0pe.—  Collins. 
T)UT  thou,  0  Hope,  with  eyes  so  fair, 
What  was  thy  delighted  measure  ? 
Still  it  whisper'd  promised  pleasure, 

And  bade  the  lovely  scenes  at  distance  hail ! 
Still  would  her  touch  the  strain  prolong, 

And  from  the  rocks,  the  woods,  the  vale, 
She  call'd  on  Echo  still  through  all  her  song; 

And  where  her  sweetest  theme  she  chose, 
A  soft  responsive  voice  was  heard  at  every  close, 

And  Hope  enchanted  smiled,  aud  waved  her  golden  hair. 

$Jfjpe.  —  Prior. 
HPHUS,  through  what  path  soe'er  of  life  we  rove, 

Rage  companies  our  hate,  and  Grief  our  love. 
Vex'd  with  the  present  moment's  heavy  gloom, 
Why  seek  we  brightness  from  the  years  to  come  ? 
Disturb'd  and  broken  like  a  sick  man's  sleep, 
Our  troubled  thoughts  to  distant  prospects  leap, 
Desirous  still  what  flies  us  to  o'ertake, 
For  Hope  is  but  the  dream  of  those  that  wake. 

JltOpe.  —  Shakspeare. 

Hope  is  a  lover's  Staff;  walk  hence  with  that, 
And  manage  it  against  despairing  Thoughts. 

itt?0pe.  —  Campbell. 
^USPICIOUS  Hope !  in  thy  sweet  garden  grow 
Wreaths  for  each  toil,  a  charm  for  every  wo : 
Won  by  their  sweets,  in  Nature's  languid  hour, 
The  way-worn  Pilgrim  seeks  thy  summer  bower; 
There,  as  the  wild  bee  murmurs  on  the  wing, 
What  peaceful  dreams  thy  handmaid  spirits  bring  ! 
What  viewless  forms  th'  iEolian  organ  play, 
And  sweep  the  furrow'd  lines  of  anxious  Thought  away  ! 

Ji)fjpe.  —  Shakspeare. 
The  Miserable  hath  no  other  Medicine, 
But  only  Hope. 

J^OP  Z.— Byron. 
\^/rHITE  as  a  white  sail  on  a  dusky  sea, 

When  half  the  Horizon's  clouded  and  half  free, 
Fluttering  between  the  dun  wave  and  the  sky, 
Is  Hope's  last  gleam  in  man's  extremity. 

J^fjpe.  —  ShaTcspeare. 
True  Hope  is  swift,  and  flies  with  swallow's  wings, 
Kings  it  makes  Gods,  and  meaner  creatures  Kings. 


OR,     THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  231 

ftftyt.  —  Skakspeare. 

The  ample  proposition;  that  Hope  makes 
In  all  designs  begun  on  earth  below, 
Fails  in  the  promised  largeness. 

Jgope.  —  Pope. 
TTOPE  humbly  then;  with  trembling  pinions  soar, 
Wait  the  great  teacher,  Death,  and  G-od  adore : 
What  future  bliss,  He  gives  not  thee  to  know, 
But  gives  that  Hope  to  be  thy  blessing  now. 
Hope  springs  eternal  in  the  human  breast: 
Man  never  Is,  but  always  To  be  blest ; 
The  soul,  uneasy,  and  confined  from  Home, 
Rests  and  expatiates  in  a  life  to  come. 

Jgope.  —  Proctor. 

What's  i'  the  air? — 
Some  subtle  spirit  runs  through  all  my  veins. 
Hope  seems  to  ride  this  morning  on  the  Wind, 
And  Joy  outshines  the  sun. 

^Ope.—  Young. 
TTOPE,  of  all  passions,  most  befriends  us  here; 

Passions  of  prouder  name  befriend  us  less. 
Joy  has  her  tears;  and  transport  has  her  Death  : 
Hope,  like  a  cordial,  innocent  though  strong, 
Man's  heart  at  once  inspirits,  and  serenes ; 
Nor  makes  him  pay  his  wisdom  for  his  joys; 
'Tis  all  our  present  state  can  safely  bear, 
Health  to  the  frame,  and  vigour  to  the  mind ! 
A  joy  attemper'd  !  a  chasti.-ed  delight ! 
Like  the  fair  summer  evening,  mild  and  sweet ! 
'Tis  man's  full  cup  :  his  Paradise  below  ! 

Ji^Ope.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
TTE  hath  persecuted  Time  with  Hope ;  and  finds  no  other  advan- 
tage in  the  process  but  only  the  losing  of  Hope  by  Time. 

JE)OP0.  —  Shahspeare. 
Even  through  the  hollow  eyes  of  Death, 
I  spy  life  peering ;  but  I  dare  not  say 
How  near  the  tidings  of  our  Comfort  is. 

Jftrjpe.  —  Cowley. 
Hope  !  of  all  ills  that  men  endure, 
The  only  cheap  and  universal  cure  ! 
Thou  captive's  Freedom,  and  thou  sick  man's  Health  ! 
Thou  lover's  Victory,  and  thou  beggar's  Wealth ! 


232  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

tyOVt.  —  Coirtei/. 
Brother  of  Fear,  more  gayly  clad  ! 
The  merrier  fool  o'  th'  two,  yet  quite  as  mad : 
Sire  of  Kepentance  !  child  of  fond  Desire  ! 
That  blow'st  the  chymics'  and  the  lovers'  fire. 
Leading  them  still  insensibly  on 
By  the  strange  witchcraft  of  "anon  V 
By  thee  the  one  does  changing  Nature,  through 

Her  endlest  labyrinths,  pursue ; 
And  th'  other  chases  Woman,  while  she  goes 
More  ways  and  turns  than  hunted  Nature  knows. 

i^Ope.  —  Moore. 
TTER  precious  pearl,  in  Sorrow's  cup, 

Unmelted  at  the  bottom  lay, 
To  shine  again,  when,  all  drunk  up, 
The  bitterness  should  pass  away. 

JgOSpttalttg.  —  Goldsmith. 
T5LEST  be  that  Spot,  where  cheerful  Guests  retire 
To  pause  from  Toil,  and  trim  their  evening  fire  j 
Blest  that  Abode,  where  want  and  pain  repair, 
And  every  Stranger  finds  a  ready  chair  : 
Blest  be  those  Feasts  with  simple  plenty  crown'd, 
Where  all  the  ruddy  family  around 
Laugh  at  the  jest  or  prank^  that  never  fail, 
Or  sigh  with  pity  at  some  mournful  tale, 
Or  press  the  bashful  Stranger  to  his  food, 
And  learn  the  luxury  of  doing  Good. 

fgUtnatt  jjiaturc  — .  Shakspeare. 
ITATH  not  a  Jew  eyes  ?  hath  not  a  Jew  hands,  organs,  dimension, 
senses,  affections,  passions  ?  fed  with  the  same  Food,  hurt  with 
the  same  Weapons,  subject  to  the  same  Diseases,  healed  by  the 
same  means,  warmed  and  cooled  by  the  same  Winter  and  Summer, 
as  a  Christian  is?  if  you  prick  us,  do  we  not  bleed  ?  if  you  tickle 
us,  do  we  not  laugh  ?  if  you  poison  us,  do  we  not  die  ? 

Jguman  ifiaturc— Anon. 

TT  is  only  when  blinded  by  Self-love,  that  we  can  think  proudly 
of  our  Nature.     Take  away  that  blind;  and  in  our  judgments 
of  others  we  are  quicksighted  enough  to  see  there  is  very  little  in 
that  Nature  to  rely  on. 

J&Utnan  i&atUtC.  —  From  the  Latin. 
To  escape  Hatred  is  to  gain  a  Triumph. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  233 

Jiniman  ^erfecttutlttp.  —  Anon. 

^HE  strange  inconsistency  is,  that,  the  very  persons  who  have 
indulged  in  the  most  splendid  visions  about  the  Perfectibility 
of  Mankind,  have  mostly  rejected  the  only  principle  of  Perfectibility 
which  has  ever  found  place  in  man,  the  only  principle  by  which  man's 
natural  corruptibility  has  ever  been  checked,  the  only  principle  by 
which  nations  or  individuals  have  ever  been  regenerated.  The 
natural  Life  of  Nations,  as  well  as  of  individuals,  has  its  fixed  course 
and  term.  It  springs  forth,  grows  up,  reaches  its  maturity,  decays, 
perishes.  Only  through  Christianity  has  a  nation  ever  risen  again : 
and  it  is  solely  on  the  operation  of  Christianity  that  we  can  ground 
any  thing  like  a  reasonable  hope  of  the  Perfectibility  of  Mankind; 
a  hope  that  what  has  often  been  wrought  in  individuals,  may  also 
in  the  fulness  of  time  be  wrought  by  the  same  power  in  the  Race. 

Jguman  |letftctflbtltti>.— Awm. 

TT  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  those  instances  of  irony  so  frequent 
in  History,  that  the  moment  chosen  by  Man  to  assert  his  Per- 
fectibility should  have  been  the  very  moment  when  all  the  powers 
of  Evil  were  about  to  be  let  loose,  and  to  run  riot  over  the  Earth. 
Happiness  was  the  idol ;  and  lo !  the  idol  burst ;  and  the  spectral 
form  of  Misery  rose  out  of  it,  and  stretched  out  its  gaunt  hand 
over  the  heads  of  the  Nations;  and  millions  of  hearts  shrank  and 
were  frozen  by  its  touch.  Liberty  was  the  watchword,  Liberty 
and  Equality  :  and  an  iron  despotism  strode  from  north  to  south, 
and  from  east  to  west;  and  all  men  cowered  at  its  approach,  and 
crouched  beneath  its  feet,  and  were  trampled  on,  and  found  the 
Equality  they  coveted  in  universal  Prostration.  Peace  was  the 
promise;  and  the  fulfilment  was  more  than  twenty  years  of  fierce, 
desolating  War. 

Jijuman  progress.  —  Coiton. 

A  NALOGY,  although  it  is  not  infallible,  is  yet  that  telescope  of 
the  mind  by  which  it  is  marvellously  assisted  in  the  discovery 
of  both  physical  and  moral  Truth.  Analogy  has  much  in  store 
fur  Men ;  but  Babes  require  milk,  and  there  may  be  intellectual 
food  which  the  present  state  of  society  is  not  fit  to  partake  of;  to 
lay  such  before  it,  would  be  as  absurd  as  to  give  a  quadrant  to 
an  Indian,  or  a  loom  to  a  Hottentot. 

Jftumamtg.  —  From  the  French. 
JpEW  men  are  raised  in  our  estimation  by  being  too  closely  ex- 
amined. 

Jtyumanttg.  —  Steele. 
A   WEALTHY  Doctor  who  can  help  a  poor  man,  and  will  not 
without  a  fee,  has  less  sense  of  Humanity  than  a  poor  Ruffian, 
who  kills  a  rich  man  to  supply  his  necessities. 


'234  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

Jftumtlttj?.  —  St.  Augustin. 
rrHE  sufficiency  of  my  Merit  is  to  know  that  my  Merit  is  not 
sufficient. 

Ji^Umtlttg.  —Fuller. 
Search  others  for  their  Virtues,  and  thyself  for  thy  Vices. 

Jfrintttlttg.  —  Moore. 
Humility,  that  low,  sweet  root 
From  which  all  heavenly  Virtues  shoot. 

JgUtmlttl?.  —  Shakspeare. 
JJE  that  commends  me  to  my  own  Content, 
Commends  me  to  the  thing  I  cannot  get. 
I  to  the  world  am  like  a  drop  of  water, 
That  in  the  Ocean  seeks  another  drop ; 
Who  failing  there  to  find  his  fellow  forth, 
Unseen,  inquisitive,  confounds  himself. 

Jgttmtittg.  —  Selden. 
JJUMILITY  is  a  virtue  all  preach,  none  practise,  and  yet  every 
body  is  content  to  hear.     The  Master  thinks  it  good  doctrine 
for  his  Servant,  the  Laity  for  the  Clergy,  and  the  Clergy  for  the 
Laity. 

JgUttUlttj).  —  Shakspeare. 
Often  to  our  comfort,  shall  we  find 
The  sharded  Beetle  in  a  safer  hold 
Than  is  the  full-wing'd  Eagle. 

J^UmOUr.  —  Anon. 
I  ET  your  Humour  always  be  G-ood  Humour,  in  both   senses. 
If  it  comes  of  a  Bad  Humour,  it  is  pretty  sure  not  to  belie  its 
Parentage. 

J^UtltOUC.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
There  are  more  faults  in  the  Humour  than  in  the  Mind. 

J^UttlOU?*  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
'THE  Humours  of  the  body  have  a  stated  and  regular  course, 
which  impels  and  imperceptibly  guides  our  Will.  They  co- 
operate with  each  other,  and  exercise  successively  a  secret  Empire 
within  us ;  so  that  they  have  a  considerable  part  in  all  our  Actions 
without  our  being  able  to  know  it. 

<^00t>  JgumOUr.  —  Sterne. 
I   LIVE  in  a  constant  endeavour  to  fence  against  the  infirmities 
of  ill-health,  and  other  evils  of  Life,  by  Mirth.     I  am  persuaded 
that  every  time  a  man  smiles — but  much  more  so  when  he  laughs 
— it  adds  something  to  this  Fragment  of  life. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  235 

J^UtttOUt.  — La  Rochefoucauld. 
TT  may  be  said  of  men's  Humours   as  of  many  buildings,  that 
they  have  divers  Aspects, — some  agreeable,  others  disagreeable. 

(gOOt!  JglWIOUt.  —  Steele. 
T'HE  portable  quality  of  Good  Humour  seasons  all  the  parts  and 
occurrences  we  meet  with,  in  such  a  manner  that  there  are  no 
moments  lost :  but  they  all  pass  with  so  much  Satisfaction,  that 
the  heaviest  of  loads,  (when  it  is  a  load,)  that  of  Time,  is  never 
felt  by  us. 

<&00fc  tyUXtWUT.— Johnson. 
f^AYETY  is  to  G-ood  Humour  as  animal  perfumes  to  vegetable 
fragrance.  The  one  overpowers  weak  spirits,  the  other  recre- 
ates and  revives  them.  Gayety  seldom  fails  to  give  some  pain ; 
Good  Humour  boasts  no  faculties  which  every  one  does  not  believe 
in  his  own  Power,  and  pleases  principally  by  not  offending. 

^linger.  —  Byron. 
That  famish'd  people  must  be  slowly  nurst, 
And  fed  by  Spoonfuls,  else  they  always  burst. 

tyunQtt.  —  Pershis. 
T'HE  Belly  is  a  master  of  arts  and  a  bestower  of  Genius.     Neces- 
sity often  draws  forth  Talent  which  had  before  lain  dormant, 
and  unknown  even  to  its  possessor. 

Jfturrp.  —  Cotton. 

MO  two  things  differ  more  than  Hurry  and  Despatch.  Hurry  is 
the  mark  of  a  weak  mind,  Despatch  of  a  strong  one.  A  weak 
man  in  office,  like  a  squirrel  in  a  cage,  is  labouring  eternally,  but 
to  no  purpose,  and  in  constant  motion  without  getting  on  a  jot; 
like  a  Turnstile,  he  is  iu  everybody's  way,  but  stops  nobody;  he 
talks  a  great  deal,  but  says  very  little  ;  looks  into  every  thing,  but 
sees  into  nothing ;  and  has  a  hundred  Irons  in  the  fire,  but  very 
few  of  them  are  hot,  and  with  those  few  that  are  he  only  burns  his 
Fingers. 

Cl)e  ffippocSontinaC — Seneca. 
0  save,  ye  Gods  omnipotent  and  kind, 
From  such  abhorr'd  Chimeras  save  the  mind ! 

QlVWCWV.— Fuller. 
Trust  not  in  him  that  seems  a  Saint. 

?^5P0CCtJ3p.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
PTAST  thou  that  holy  feeling  in  thy  Soul, 

To  counsel  me  to  make  my  peace  with  God, 
And  art  thou  yet  to  thy  own  Soul  so  bljnd, 
That  thou  wilt  war  with  God  ? 
V 


236         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

S^pOCrtSp.  —  Young. 
The  world's  all  Title-page  :  there's  no  Contents ; 
The  world's  all  Face;  the  man  who  shows  his  Heart 
Is  whooted  for  his  nudities,  and  scorn'd. 

i^PpOCrisp.  —  Lavater. 
"pVERY  thing  may  be  mimicked  by  Hypocrisy,  but  Humility  and 
Love  united.  The  more  rare  the  more  radiant  when  they  meet. 

JftgpOCriSg.  —  Shakspeare. 
AH  !  cunning  enemy,  that,  to  catch  a  Saint, 

With  Saints  dost  bait  thy  hook !  Most  dangerous 
Is  that  Temptation,  that  doth  goad  us  on 
To  sin  in  loving  Virtue. 

JggpOCrtSp.  —  Cotton. 
TF  the  Devil  ever  laughs,  it  must  be  at  Hypocrites  :  they  are  the 
greatest  dupes  he  has ;  they  serve  him  better  than  any  others, 
and  receive  no  wages;  nay,  what  is  still  more  extraordinary,  they 
submit  to  greater  Mortifications  to  go  to  Hell,  than  the  sincerest 
Christian  to  go  to  Heaven. 

fepOCriSg.  —  Milton. 
JYPOCRISY,  the  only  evil  that  walks 
Invisible,  except  to  Glod  alone, 
By  his  permissive  will,  through  Heaven  and  Earth, 
And  oft  though  Wisdom  wakes,  Suspicion  sleeps 
At  Wisdom's  gate,  and  to  Simplicity 
Resigns  her  charge,  while  Goodness  thinks  no  ill 
Where  no  ill  seems. 

JftgpOCrtSJ).  —  Cotton. 
'THERE  is  only  one  circumstance  in  which  the  upright  man  will 
imitate  the  Hypocrite :  I  mean  in  his  attempts  to  conciliate 
the  good  opinion  of  his  fellow-men.  But  here  the  similarity  must 
cease,  for  their  respective  motives  are  wider  than  the  poles  asunder; 
the  former  will  attempt  this  to  increase  his  power  of  doing  good, 
the  latter  to  augment  his  means  of  doing  harm. 

JggpOCriSg.  —  Shakspeare. 

To  beguile  the  Time, 
Look  like  the  Time ;  bear  welcome  in  your  eyes, 
Your  hand,  your  tongue  :  look  like  the  innocent  flower; 
But  be  the  Serpent  under  it. 

J^gpOCriSg.—  Addison. 
'Tis  not  my  talent  to  conceal  my  thoughts, 
Or  carry  Smiles  and  Sunshine  in  my  face, 
When  Discontent  sits  heavy  at  my  heart. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  237 

J^gpOCnSg.  —  Spenser. 
THERETO  when  needed,  she  could  weep  and  pray, 
And  when  her  listed  she  could  fawne  and  flatter; 
Now  smyling  smoothly,  like  to  Sommer's  day, 
Now  glooming  sadly,  so  to  cloke  her  matter : 
Yet  were  her  Words  but  wynd,  and  all  her  Tears  but  water. 

JglJpOCriSp.  —  Peier  Pindar. 
HTO  wear  long  faces,  just  as  if  our  Maker, 

The  God  of  Goodness,  was  an  undertaker, 
"Well  pleased  to  wrap  the  Soul's  unlucky  mien 
In  sorrow's  dismal  crape  or  bombasin. 

J^PPOCrigp.  —  Shakspeare. 
THE  Devil  can  cite  Scripture  for  his  purpose. 

An  evil  soul,  producing  holy  witness, 
Is  like  a  villain  with  a  smiling  cheek ; 
A  goodly  Apple  rotten  at  the  Heart : 
Oh,  what  a  goodly  outside  Falsehood  hath  ! 

JftPPOCrisp.  —Joanna  Baillie. 
THINK'ST  thou  there  are  no  Serpents  in  the  world 

But  those  who  slide  along  the  grassy  sod, 
And  sting  the  luckless  foot  that  presses  them  ? 
There  are  who  in  the  path  of  social  life 
Do  bask  their  spotted  skins  in  Fortune's  sun, 
And  sting  the  Soul — Ay,  till  its  healthful  frame 
Is  changed  to  secret,  festering,  sore  Disease, 
So  deadly  is  the  Wound. 

JfiPPOCrtSJ).  —  Shakspeare. 
"DUT  then  I  sigh,  and,  with  a  piece  of  Scripture, 
Tell  them — that  God  bids  us  do  good  for  evil : 
And  thus  I  clothe  my  naked  villany 
With  old  odd  ends,  stolen  forth  of  Holy  Writ ; 
And  seem  a  Saint,  when  most  I  play  the  Devil. 
Why,  I  can  smile,  and  murder  while  I  smile : 
And  cry,  Content,  to  that  which  grieves  my  heart; 
And  wet  my  cheeks  with  artificial  Tears, 
And  frame  my  Face  to  all  occasions. 

J^gpOCriS}).  —  Shakspeare. 
T)E  not  you  spoke  with,  but  by  mighty  suit : 

And  look  you  get  a  Prayer-Book  in  your  hand, 
And  stand  between  two  churchmen,  good  my  Lord; 
For  on  that  ground  I'll  make  a  holy  descant : 
And  be  not  easily  won  to  our  Bequests ; 
Play  the  maid's  part, — still  answer  Nay,  and  take  it. 


238  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

i^PPOCttSp.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
Q  NATURE  !  what  hadst  thou  to  do  in  Hell, 

When  thou  did'st  bower  the  spirit  of  a  Fiend 
In  mortal  paradise  of  such  sweet  flesh  ? — 
Was  ever  Book,  containing  such  vile  matter, 
So  fairly  bound  ?     Oh,  that  Deceit  should  dwell 
In  such  a  gorgeous  palace ! 
0  serpent  heart !  hid  with  a  flowering  face  ! 
Did  ever  Dragon  keep  so  fair  a  cave? 
Beautiful  tyrant !  Fiend  angelical ! 
Dove-feather' d  raven  !  Wolvish-ravening  lamb  ! 
Despised  substance  of  divinest  show  ! 
Just  opposite  to  what  thou  justly  seem'st ! 

H£>P0Crt!5g.  —  Milton. 
UNDER  fair  pretence  of  friendly  ends, 
'  And  well-placed  words  of  glossy  Courtesy, 
Baited  with  reason  not  unplausible, 
Wind  me  into  the  easy-hearted  man, 
And  hug  him  into  Snares. 

J^|)pOCrt!Sg.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
He  was  a  Man 
Of  an  unbounded  Stomach,  ever  ranking 
Himself  with  Princes ;  one  that,  by  Suggestion, 
Tied  all  the  Kingdom  :  Simony  was  fair  Play ; 
His  own  Opinion  was  his  Law :  F  the  Presence, 
He  would  say  Untruths ;  and  be  ever  double, 
Both  in  his  Words  and  Meaning.     He  was  never, 
But  where  he  meant  to  ruin,  pitiful ; 
His  Promises  were,  as  he  then  was,  mighty; 
But  his  Performance,  as  he  is  now,  nothing. 

JtoPOCnSjf).  —  ShaJcspeare. 

To  the  common  people, 
How  did  he  seem  to  dive  into  their  hearts 
With  humble  and  familiar  Courtesy; 
What  reverence  he  did  throw  away  on  slaves; 
Wooing  poor  craftsmen  with  the  craft  of  Smiles, 
And  patient  under-bearing  of  his  fortune, 
As  'twere  to  banish  their  Affects  with  him. 
Off  goes  his  bonnet  to  an  oyster-wench  ; 
A  brace  of  dray-men  bid,  God  speed  him  well ! 
And  had  the  tribute  of  his  supple  Knee ; 
Writh, — Thanks,  my  countrymen,  my  loving  friends. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  239 

S^gpOCriSJ}.  —  Shakspeare. 
THOUGH  I  do  hate  him  as  I  do  Hell  pains, 

Yet,  for  necessity  of  present  lift, 
I  must  show  out  a  flag  and  sign  of  Love, 
Which  is  indeed  but  Sign. 

(Due  Stoea.—  Swift. 

f^OMMON  speakers   have  only  one  set  of  Ideas,  and  one  set  of 
words  to  clothe   them  in  ;  and  these  are  always  ready  at  the 
Mouth  :  so  people  come  faster  out  of  a  Church  when  it  is  almost 
empty,  than  when  a  crowd  is  at  the  Door. 

(Dne  Biea.  —  Swift. 

THERE  is  a  Brain  that  will  endure  but  one  scumming  :  let  the 
owner  gather  it  with  Discretion,  and  manage  his  little   stock 
with  Husbandry ;  but  of  all  things  let  him  beware  of  bringing  it 
under  the  lash  of  his  betters. 

(But  Etiea,  —  Shakspeare. 
TTE  doth  nothing  but  talk  of  his  Horse  ;  and  he  makes  it  a  great 
appropriation  to  his  own  good    parts,  that  he  can  shoe  him 
himself. 

£tl  If  nC8$.  —  Cowper. 
Absence  of  Occupation  is  not  rest, 
A  mind  quite  vacant  is  a  mind  distress'd. 

Stolen***.  —  Spenser. 

"PROM  worldly  Cares  himself  he  did  esloyne, 

And  greatly  shunned  manly  exercise ; 
From  everie  worke  he  chalenged  essoyne, 

For  Contemplation  sake  :  yet  otherwise, 

His  life  he  led  in  lawlesse  riotise, 
By  which  he  grew  to  grievous  malady ; 

For  in  his  lustesse  limbs  through  evil  guise, 
A  shaking  fever  raign'd  continually  : 
Such  one  was  Idlenesse,  first  of  this  company. 

EtllenCSS.  —  Young. 
T  EISURE  is  pain;  takes  off  our  chariot  wheels; 

How  heavily  we  drag  the  load  of  Life  ! 
Blest  Leisure  is  our  curse  ;  like  that  of  Cain, 
It  makes  us  wander ;  wander  earth  around 
To  fly  that  tyrant  Thought.     As  Atlas  groan'd 
The  World  beneath,  we  groan  beneath    an  Hour. 

$t!  Itttem—  From  the  Latin. 
J£VIL  thoughts  intrude  in  an  unemployed  Mind,  as  naturally  aa 
Worms  are  generated  in  a  stagnant  pool. 
v2 


240  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

ifcknCSS.—  Burton. 
JDLENESS  is  the  badge  of  Gentry,  the  bane  of  body  and  mind, 
the  nurse  of  Naughtiness,  the  step-mother  of  Discipline,  the 
chief  author  of  all  Mischief,  one  of  the  seven  deadly  sins,  the 
cushioD  upon  which  the  Devil  chiefly  reposes,  and  a  great  cause 
not  only  of  Melancholy,  but  of  many  other  diseases :  for  the  mind 
is  naturally  active ;  and  if  it  be  not  occupied  about  some  honest 
business,  it  rushes  into  Mischief,  or  sinks  into  Melancholy. 

ItllenCSS.—  Franklin. 
TT  would  be  thought  a  hard  government  that  should  tax  its  people 
one-tenth  part  of  their  time,  to  be  employed  in  its  service;  but 
Idleness  taxes  many  of  us  much  more;  sloth,  by  bringing  on 
diseases,  absolutely  shortens  life.  Sloth,  like  rust,  consumes  faster 
than  labour  wears;  while  the  used  key  is  always  bright.  Dost 
thou  love  life,  then  do  not  squander  time,  for  that  is  the  stuff"  life 
is  made  of.  How  much  more  than  is  necessary  do  we  spend  in 
sleep,  forgetting  that  the  sleeping  fox  catches  no  poultry,  and 
there  will  be  sleeping  enough  in  the  grave  ! 

Ignorance.  —  Coiton. 

TT  is  with  Nations  as  with  individuals,  those  who  know  the  least 
of  others  think  the  highest  of  themselves ;  for  the  whole  family 
of  Pride  and  Ignorance  are  incestuous,  and  mutually  beget  each 
other. 

Egnotance.  —  Seneca. 
COME  men,  like  Pictures,  are  fitter  for  a  Corner  than  a  full 
light.  r 

$UnC0£i.  —  Shakspeare. 
May  be  he  is  not  well : 
Infirmity  doth  still  neglect  all  office, 
Whereto  our  Health  is  bound ;  we're  not  ourselves, 
When  Nature,  being  oppress' d,  commands  the  Mind 
To  suffer  with  the  Body. 

IllneS0.  —  Colton. 
COME  persons  will  tell  you,  with  an  air  of  the  miraculous,  that 
they  recovered  although  they  were  given  over;  whereas  they 
might  with  more  Reason  have  said,  they  recovered  because  they 
were  given  over. 

IllUStOn.  —  Shakspeare. 
Some  there  be,  that  Shadows  kiss ; 
Such  have  but  a  shadow's  bliss. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  241 

£i)e  image  Of  I)tS  jFZttyX.  —  Shdkspeare. 

Behold,  my  Lords, 
Although  the  print  be  little,  the  whole  matter 
And  Copy  of  the  Father :  Eye,  Nose,  Lip, 
The  trick  of  his  Frown,  his  Forehead ;  nay,  the  valley, 
The  pretty  dimples  of  his  Chin,  and  Cheek ;  his  Smiles ! 
The  very  mould  and  frame  of  Hand,  Nail,  Finger. 

imagination,  —  Burton. 

A  CONTENTED  citizen  of  Milan,  who  had  never  passed  beyond 
its  walls  during  the  course  of  sixty  years,  being  ordered  by  the 
Governor  not  to  stir  beyond  its  gates,  became  immediately  mise- 
rable, and  felt  so  powerful  an  inclination  to  do  that  which  he  had 
so  long  contentedly  neglected,  that,  on  his  application  for  a  release 
from  this  restraint  beiDg  refused,  he  became  quite  melancholy,  and 
at  last  died  of  Grief.  The  pains  of  imprisonment  also,  like  those 
of  servitude,  are  more  in  conception  than  in  reality.  We  are  all 
prisoners.     What  is  Life,  but  the  prison  of  the  Soul  ? 

imagination,  —  Shakspeare. 

'THE  lunatic,  the  lover,  and  the  poet, 

Are  of  Imagination  all  compact : 
One  sees  more  devils  than  vast  Hell  can  hold ; 
The  madman.     While  the  lover,  all  as  frantic, 
Sees  Helen's  beauty  in  a  brow  of  Egypt. 
The  poet's  eye,  in  a  fine  frenzy  rolling, 
Doth  glance  from  Heaven  to  Earth,  from  Earth  to  Heaven; 
And  as  Imagination  bodies  forth 
The  forms  of  things  unknown,  the  poet's  pen 
Turns  them  to  shape,  and  gives  to  airy  nothing 
A  local  habitation  and  a  name. 
Such  tricks  hath  strong  Imagination, 
That  if  he  would  but  apprehend  some  joy, 
It  comprehends  some  bringer  of  that  joy ; 
Or  in  the  night  imagining  some  fear, 
How  easy  is  a  Bush  supposed  a  Bear  ? 

imagination.  —  Skdkspeare. 

"T)ANGEROUS  Conceits  are,  in  their  natures,  poisons, 

Which,  at  the  first,  are  scarce  found  to  distaste ; 
But,  with  a  little  act  upon  the  Blood, 
Burn  like  the  mines  of  sulphur. 

imagination.  —  Rogers. 

F)0  what  he  will,  he  cannot  realize 

Half  he  conceives — the  glorious  Vision  flies. 
Go  where  he  may,  he  cannot  hope  to  find 
The  Truth,  the  Beauty  pictured  in  his  mind. 


242        ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Imitation.—  Coiton. 

Imitation  is  the  sincerest  of  Flattery. 

Imitation.  —  Coiton. 

THE  secret  of  some  men's  Attractions  might  be  safely  told  to  all 
the  world,  for  under  any  other  management  but  that  of  the 
possessor,  they  would  cease  to  attract.  Those  who  attempted  to 
imitate  them,  would  find  that  they  had  got  the  Fiddle,  but  not  the 
Fiddle-stick. 

ImttattOtt.  —  Shakspeare. 

TT  is  certain  that  either  wise  bearing,  or  ignorant  carriage,  is 
caught,  as  men  take  Diseases,  one  of  another :  therefore,  let 
men  take  heed  of  their  Company. 

Imitation.  —  Lavater. 
TTE  who  is  always  in  want  of  something  cannot  be  very  rich. 
'Tis  a  poor  wit  who  lives  by  borrowing  the  Words,  decisions, 
mien,  inventions,  and  Actions  of  others. 

Imitation.  —  Greviiu. 

T  HARDLY  know  so  true  a  mark  of  a  little  Mind,  as  the  servile 
Imitation  of  others. 

Immortality.  —  Young, 
Still  seems  it  strange  that  thou  shouldst  live  for  ever  ? 
Is  it  less  strange  that  thou  shouldst  live  at  all  ? 
This  is  a  Miracle;  and  that  no  more. 

ImmortalitP.  —  Young. 

Can  it  be  ? 

Matter  immortal  ?  and  shall  Spirit  die  ? 
Above  the  nobler,  shall  less  noble  rise  ? 
Shall  Man  alone,  for  whom  all  else  revives, 
No  Resurrection  know  ?  shall  Man  alone, 
Imperial  Man !  be  sown  in  barren  ground, 
Less  privileged  than  grain,  on  which  he  feeds  ? 

Impertinence.  —  Lavater. 
"DECEIVE  no  satisfaction  for  premeditated  Impertinence;  forget 
it,   forgive   it,  but  keep  him  inexorably  at  a  distance  who 
offered  it. 

Pegging  Impostors.  —  Ben  Jonson. 

'THERE  is  no  bounty  to  be  show'd  to  such 

As  have  no  real  Goodness :  Bounty  is 
A  spice  of  Virtue  :  and  what  virtuous  act 
Can  take  effect  on  them  that  have  no  power 
Of  equal  habitude  to  apprehend  it  ? 


OR,     TI1IXGS    XEW  AND    OLD.  243 

Improvement.  —  Coiton. 

"\TTHERE  we  cannot  invent,  we  may  at  least  improve ;  we  may 
give  somewhat  of  Novelty  to  that  which  was  old,  Condensa- 
tion to  that  which  was  diffuse,  Perspicuity  to  that  which  was  obscure, 
and  Currency  to  that  which  was  recondite. 

Impulse  —  Hare. 
CINCE  the  generality  of  persons  act  from  Impulse  much  more 
than  from  Principle,  men  are  neither  so  good  nor  so  bad  as  we 
are  apt  to  think  them. 

Impulses.  — Cooler. 
A   TRUE  history  of  human  events  would  show  that  a  far  larger 
proportion  of  our  acts  are  the  results  of  sudden  Impulses  and 
accident,  than  of  that  reason  of  which  we  so  much  boast. 

InCOTiStStenrj).  —  Anon. 
A  MONG  the  numberless  Contradictions  in  our  nature,  hardly  any 
is  more  glaring  than  this,  between  our  sensitiveness  to  the 
slightest  Disgrace  which  we  fancy  cast  upon  us  from  without,  and 
our  callousness  to  the  Filth  within  ourselves.  In  truth,  they  who 
are  the  most  sensitive  to  the  one  are  often  the  most  callous  to  the 
other. 

Independence.  —  Smoiktt. 

T'HY  spirit,  Independence,  let  me  share ! 

Lord  of  the  lion  heart  and  eagle  eye, 
Thy  steps  I  follow  with  my  bosom  bare, 
Nor  heed  the  storm  that  howls  along  the  sky. 
Deep  in  the  frozen  regions  of  the  north, 
A  goddess  violated  brought  thee  forth, 
Immortal  Liberty,  whose  look  sublime, 
Hath  bleach'd  the  Tyrant's  cheek  in  every  varying  clime. 

Independence.  —  Erinzelmai*. 

T>E  and  continue  poor,  young  man,  while  others  around  you 
grow  rich  by  fraud  and  disloyalty ;  be  without  place  or  Power, 
while  others  beg  their  way  upward;  bear  the  pain  of  disappointed 
Hopes,  while  others  gain  the  accomplishment  of  theirs  by  flattery; 
forego  the  gracious  pressure  of  the  hand  for  which  others  cringe 
and  crawl.  Wrap  yourself  in  your  own  Virtue,  and  seek  a  Friend 
and  your  daily  bread.  If  you  have  in  such  a  course  grown  gray 
with  unblenched  Honour,  bless  God,  and  die. 

Independence.— Anon. 

'THE  King  is  the  least  independent  man  in  his  dominions, — the 
Beggar  the  most  so. 


244  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

independence.  —  Cowper. 

T  PRAISE  you  much,  ye  meek  and  patient  pair 

For  ye  are  worthy  j  choosing  rather  for 
A  dry  but  independent  Crust,  hard-earn' d 
And  eaten  with  a  sigh,  than  to  endure 
The  rugged  frowns  and  insolent  rebuffs 
Of  Knaves  in  office. 

3mfitan  Character.  —  Cooper. 

"pEW  men  exhibit  greater  diversity,  or,  if  we  may  so  express  it, 
greater  antithesis  of  character,  than  the  native  warrior  of  North 
America.  In  war,  he  is  daring,  boastful,  cunning,  ruthless,  self- 
denying,  and  self-devoted ;  in  peace,  just,  generous,  hospitable, 
revengeful,  superstitious,  modest,  and  commonly  chaste.  These 
are  qualities,  it  is  true,  which  do  not  distinguish  all  alike;  but 
they  are  so  far  the  predominating  traits  of  these  remarkable  people 
as  to  be  characteristic. 

EntecrettOn.  —  La  Bruyere. 
HPHE  generality  of  men  expend  the  early  part  of  their  lives  in 
contributing  to  render  the  latter  part  miserable. 

Cf)e  MltSCrcet.  —  Addison. 
A  N  Indiscreet  Man  is  more  hurtful  than  an  ill-natured  one ;  for 
as  the  latter  will  only  attack  his  Enemies,  and  those  he  wishes 
ill  to;  the  other  injures  indifferently  both  Friends  and  Foes. 

3mfotbrtJUaltt£.  —  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
TN  the  very  lowest  link  in  the  vast  and  mysterious  chain  of  Being, 
there  is  an  effort,  although  scarcely  apparent,  at  Individualiza- 
tion ;  but  it  is  almost  lost  in  the  mere  Nature.  A  little  higher  up, 
the  Individual  is  apparent  and  separate,  but  subordinate  to  any 
thing  in  Man.  At  length,  the  animal  rises  to  be  on  a  par  with  the 
lowest  power  of  the  human  nature.  There  are  some  of  our  natural 
desires  which  only  remain  in  our  most  perfect  state  on  Earth  as 
means  of  the  higher  powers  acting. 

$ntJUJ3tl*£*  —  Franklin. 
'THE  way  to  "Wealth  is  as  plain  as  the  way  to  Market.  It 
depends  chiefly  on  two  words,  Industry  and  Frugality :  that  is, 
waste  neither  Time  nor  Money,  but  make  the  best  use  of  both. 
Without  Industry  and  Frugality  nothing  will  do,  and  with  them 
every  thing. 

$ntetr;i).  —  Franklin. 
CLOTH  makes  all  things  difficult,  but  Industry  all  easy ;  and  he 
that  riseth  late  must  trot  all  day,  and  shall  scarce  overtake  his 
business  at  night :  while  Laziness  travels  so  slowly,  that  Poverty 
soon  overtakes  him. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  245 

$ntiustrg»  —  Cotton. 

TTE  that  from  small  beginnings  has  deservedly  raised  himself  to 
the  highest  Stations,  may  not  always  find  that  full  satisfaction 
in  the  possession  of  his  object,  that  he  anticipated  in  the  pursuit  of 
it.  But  although  the  individual  may  be  disappointed,  the  Com- 
munity are  benefited,  first  by  his  exertions,  and  secondly,  by  his 
example ;  for,  it  has  been  well  observed,  that  the  Public  are  served 
not  by  what  the  Lord  Mayor  feels  who  rides  in  his  coach,  but  by 
what  the  Apprentice  Boy  feels  who  looks  at  him. 

\X&V&\XQ.  — Franklin. 
TNDUSTRY  need  not  wish,  and  he  that  lives  upon  hopes  will  die 
fasting.  There  are  no  gains  without  pains;  then  help,  hands, 
for  I  have  no  lands;  or,  if  I  have,  they  are  smartly  taxed.  He  that 
hath  a  trade  hath  an  estate,  and  he  that  hath  a  calling,  hath  an 
office  of  profit  and  honour;  but  then  the  trade  must  be  worked 
at.  and  the  calling  followed,  or  neither  the  estate  nor  the  office 
will  enable  us  to  pay  our  taxes.  If  we  are  industrious,  we  shall 
never  starve;  for,  at  the  working-man's  house  hunger  looks  in,  but 
dares  not  enter.  Nor  will  the  bailiff  or  the  constable  enter,  for 
Industry  pays  debts,  while  despair  increaseth  them. 

Intbxittv.  — Prior. 

T  DRANK ;  I  liked  it  not,  'twas  rage,  'twas  noise, 

An  airy  scene  of  transitory  joys. 
In  vain  I  trusted  that  the  flowing  bowl 
Would  banish  Sorrow,  and  enlarge  the  Soul. 
To  the  late  revel,  and  protracted  feast, 
Wild  Dreams  succeeded,  and  disorder'd  rest. 

$neXpertettCC.  —  Shakspeare. 
THE  untainted  Virtue  of  your  years 

Hath  not  yet  dived  into  the  World's  deceit : 
Nor  more  can  you  distinguish  of  a  man 
Than  of  his  outward  show,  which,  G-od  he  knows, 
Seldom  or  never  jumpeth  with  the  Heart. 

inexperience*—  Anon. 

THOUSANDS  of  the  brave,  the  gifted  and  the  beautiful,  have 
waked  from  dreams  of  juvenile  Idolatry,  amid  the  cold  realities 
of  every-day  life,  and  loathed  the  long  remnant  of  a  scarce  bud- 
ding existence,  for  the  rash  vows  of  its  opening  dawn.  The  world 
is  peopled  with  such  mourners,  and  if  in  time  the  cloak  of  Indif- 
ference, or  the  mantle  of  Resignation,  or  the  pall  of  Despair, 
shroud  it  from  the  world's  unfeeling  gaze,  the  broken  heart  is  not 
the  less  surely  there. 


246  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

EnfcrttOtt.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
How  oft  the  sight  of  Means  to  do  ill  Deeds, 
Makes  Deeds  ill  done  ! 

EnftMttp.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
She's  gone ;  I  am  abused ;  and  my  relief 
Must  be — to  loathe  her. 

Eltftfcelttl).  —  Shdkspeare. 
Such  an  act, 
That  blurs  the  grace  and  blush  of  Modesty : 
Calls  Virtue,  Hypocrite  :  takes  off  the  rose 
From  the  fair  forehead  of  an  innocent  love, 
And  sets  a  blister  there  :  makes  marriage  vows 
As  false  as  dicers'  oaths ;  Oh,  such  a  deed, 
As  from  the  body  of  Contraction  plucks 
The  very  soul ;  and  sweet  Religion,  makes 
A  rhapsody  of  words. 

InffiitUt$.— Moore. 

OH  !  colder  than  the  Wind  that  freezes 
Founts  that  but  now  in  sunshine  play'd, 

Is  that  congealing  Pang  which  seizes 
The  trusting  bosom  when  betray'd. 

JrtfiMttg.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

Oh,  she  is  fallen 
Into  a  pit  of  Ink  !  that  the  wide  Sea 
Hath  drops  too  few  to  wash  her  clean  again ; 
And  Salt  too  little,  which  may  season  give 
To  her  foul  tainted  flesh  ! 

EttfiMttg.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

0  thou  Weed, 
Who  art  so  lovely  fair,  and  smell'st  so  sweet, 
That  the  sense  aches  at  thee, — Would,  thou  had'st  ne'er 
been  born ! 

InfiMttj).  —  ShaJcspeare. 
HTHIS  was  your  Husband. — Look  you  now,  what  follows 

Here  is  your  Husband;  like  a  mildew'd  ear, 
Blasting  his  wholesome  Brother.     Have  you  eyes  ? 
Could  you  on  this  fair  mountain  leave  to  feed, 
And  batten  on  this  moor  ?  Ha  !  have  you  eyes  ? 
You  cannot  call  it,  Love  :  for,  at  your  age, 
The  hey-day  in  the  blood  is  tame,  it's  humble, 
And  waits  upon  the  Judgment;  And  what  judgment 
Would  step  from  this,  to  this  ? 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  247 


Enfr&Clttp.  —  Shakspeare. 
I  should  make  very  forges  of  my  cheeks, 
That  would  to  cinders  burn  up  Modesty, 
Did  I  but  speak  thy  Deeds. 

i&ofcie  intimity.— Young. 

COME,  when  they  die,  die  all :  their  mould'ring  clay 

Is  but  an  Emblem  of  their  Memories; 
The  space  quite  closes  up  thro'  which  they  pass'd : 
That  I  have  lived,  I  leave  a  mark  behind, 
Shall  pluck  the  shining  age  from  vulgar  time, 
And  give  it  whole  to  late  Posterity. 

JttgratttUtie.  —  Shakspeare. 

Then  burst  his  mighty  Heart : 
And,  in  his  mantle  muffling  up  his  face, 
Even  at  the  base  of  Pompey's  statue, 
Which  all  the  while  ran  blood,  great  Caesar  fell. 

IttgratttUtJe.  —  Shakspeare. 

She  hath  tied 
Sharp-tooth'd  Unkindness,  like  a  vulture. 

ingtatttUtie.  —  Shakspeare. 
TNGKATITUDE  is  monstrous ;  and  for  the  Multitude  to  be  in- 
grateful,  were  to  make  a  Monster  of  the  Multitude. 

ingratitude.  —  Shakspeare. 
'TIME  hath  a  wallet  at  his  back 

Wherein  he  puts  alms  for  Oblivion, 
A  great-sized  monster  of  Ingratitudes  ;  - 
Those  scraps  are  good  deeds  past ;  which  are  devour' d 
As  fast  as  they  are  made,  forgot  as  soon 
As  done. 

ingratitude.  —  Shakspeare. 
J>LOW,  blow,  thou  Winter  Wind, 
Thou  art  not  so  unkind 
As  man's  Ingratitude; 
Thy  tooth  is  not  so  keen, 
Because  thou  art  not  seen, 
Although  thy  breath  be  rude. 

ingratitude.  —  Anon. 

T'HOUGrH  Ingratitude  is  too  frequent  in  the  most  of  those  who 
are  obliged,  yet  Encouragement  will  work  on  generous  minds ; 
and  if  the  experiment  be  lost  on  thousands,  yet  it  never  fails  on 
all;  and  one  virtuous  man  in  a  whole  nation  is  worth  the  buying, 
as  one  Diamond  is  worth  the  search  in  a  heap  of  rubbish. 

W 


248  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

iltgratttUtie.  —  Shahspeare. 
T  HATE  Ingratitude  more  in  a  man, 

Than  lying,  vainness,  babbling,  drunkenness, 
Or  any  taint  of  Vice,  whose  strong  corruption 
Inhabits  our  frail  Blood. 

ingratitude.— ButUr. 

rrHAT  he  alone  is  ungrateful,  who  makes  returns  of  Obligations, 
because  he  does  it  merely  to  free  himself  from  owing  so  much 
as  Thanks. 

ingratitude.  —  From  the  Italian. 
THE  animal  with  long  ears,  after  having  drunk,  gives  a  kick  to 
the  bucket. 

ingratttutre. — Ausonius. 

"^OTHING  more  detestable  does  the  Earth  produce  than  an  Un- 
grateful Man. 

ingratitude.  —La  Rochefoucauld. 
\\TE  seldom  find  people  ungrateful  as  long  as  we  are  in  a  condition 
to  render  them  Services. 

ingratitude.  —  Shahspeare. 

'Tis  a  common  proof, 
That  lowliness  is  young  Ambition's  ladder, 
Whereto  the  climber  upward  turns  his  face ; 
But  when  he  once  attains  the  upmost  round, 
He  then  unto  the  Ladder  turns  his  back, 
Looks  in  the  clouds,  scorning  the  base  degrees 
By  which  he  did  ascend. 

ingratitude.  —  Shahspeare. 
Ingratitude  !  thou  marble-hearted  Fiend, 
More  hideous,  when  thou  show'st  thee  in  a  child, 
Than  the  Sea  Monster. 

ingratitude.—  From  the  Latin. 
TF  you  say  he  is  Ungrateful,  you  can  impute  to  him  no  more  de- 
testable act. 

ingratitude. —PuWus  Syrius. 

QNE  Ungrateful  Man  does  an  Injury  to  all  who  stand  in  need  of 
aid. 

injuries.—  Diogenes. 
No  man  is  hurt  but  by  himself. 

injuries.  —  Fuller. 
Slight  small  Injuries,  and  they'll  become  none  at  all. 


JJ 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  249 

Injuries  — Za  Rochefoucauld. 

A  TEN  are  not  only  prone  to  lose  the  Remembrance  of  Benefits 
and  of  Injuries;  they  even  hate  those  who  have  obliged  them, 
and  cease  to  hate  those  who  have  grievously  injured  them.  The 
constant  study  to  recompense  Good  and  avenge  Evil  appears  to 
them  a  slavery,  to  which  they  feel  it  difficult  to  submit. 

Self  'Enjur  P.  —Johnson. 
A    MAN  should  be  careful  never  to  tell  tales  of  himself  to  his  own 
Disadvantage  :  people  may  be  amused,  and  laugh  at  the  time, 
but  they  will  be  remembered,  and  brought  up  against  him  upon 
some  subsequent  occasion. 

irctf'lttjurp.  —  Shakspeare. 
What  Things  are  we ! 
Merely  our  own  Traitors.     And  as  in  the  common  course  of  all 
treasons,  we   still  see  them  reveal  themselves,  till  they  attain  to 
their  abhorred  ends;  so  he,  that  contrives  against  his  own  Nobility, 
in  his  proper  Stream  o'erflows  himself. 

Irmor mce.  —  From  (he  French. 
Innocence  and  Mysteriousness  never  dwell  long  together. 

imifittntt.— Novate. 

TNNOCENCE  and  Ignorance  are  sisters.  But  there  are  noble 
and  vulgar  sisters.  Vulgar  Innocence  and  Ignorance  are  mortal, 
they  have  pretty  faces,  but  wholly  without  expression,  and  of  a 
transient  Beauty ;  the  noble  sisters  are  immortal,  their  lofty  forms 
are  unchangeable,  and  their  countenances  are  still  radiant  with  the 
light  of  Paradise.  They  dwell  in  Heaven,  and  visit  only  the  noblest 
and  most  severely  tried  of  Mankind. 

Ennomt  re.  —  Horace. 
True,  conscious  Honour,  is  to  feel  no  sin ; 
He's  arm'd  without  that's  innocent  within  : 
Be  this  thy  screen,  and  this  thy  wall  of  brass. 

innocence.  —  Shakspeare. 

Thou  shalt  not  see  me  blush, 
Nor  change  my  Countenance  for  this  arrest; 
A  Heart  unspotted  is  not  easily  daunted. 
The  purest  spring  is  not  so  free  from  mud, 
As  I  am  clear  from  Treason. 

Innocence.—  Mnton. 

CO  dear  to  Heaven  is  saintly  Chastity, 

That  when  a  soul  is  found  sincerely  so, 
A  thousand  liveried  angels  lacquey  her, 
Driving  far  off  each  thing  of  Sin  and  Gruilt. 


25U         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

innocence.  —  Shakspeare. 
For  unstain'd  thoughts  do  seldom  dream  on  Evil; 
Birds  never  limed  no  secret  Bushes  fear. 

teanttp.  —  Shakspeare. 
T'HERE  is  a  willow  grows  ascaunt  the  brook, 

That  shows  his  hoar  leaves  in  the  glassy  stream; 
Therewith  fantastic  Garlands  did  she  make 
Of  crow-flowers,  nettles,  daisies,  and  long  purples, 
That  liberal  Shepherds  give  a  grosser  name, 
But  our  cold  maids  do  dead  men's  fingers  call  them  : 
There  on  the  pendant  boughs  her  coronet  weeds 
Clambering  to  hang,  an  envious  sliver  broke ; 
When  down  her  weedy  trophies,  and  herself, 
Fell  in  the  weeping  Brook.     Her  clothes  spread  wide; 
And,  Mermaid-like,  a  while  they  bore  her  up  : 
Which  time,  she  chanted  snatches  of  old  tunes; 
As  one  incapable  of  her  own  Distress, 
Or  like  a  creature  native  and  indued 
Unto  that  element:  but  long  it  could  not  be, 
Till  that  her  garments,  heavy  with  their  drink, 
Pulled  the  poor  Wretch  from  her  melodious  lay 
To  muddy  Death. 

$nsanttj>,  —  Shakspeare.^ 
Oh,  what  a  noble  Mind  is  here  o'erthrown  ! 
The  Courtier's,  Soldier's,  Scholar's,  eye,  tongue,  sword  1 
Th'  expectaucy  and  rose  of  the  fair  State, 
The  glass  of  fashion,  and  the  mould  of  form, 
Th'  observed  of  all  observers,  quite,  quite  down  ! 
I  am  of  ladies  most  deject  and  wretched, 
That  suck'd  the  honey  of  his  music  vows : 
Now  see  that  noble  and  most  sovereign  reason, 
Like  sweet  bells  jangled  out  of  tune,  and  harsh; 
That  unmatch'd  form,  and  feature  of  blown  youth, 
Blasted  with  ecstasy. 

Insanity  —  Shakspeare. 
He  was  met  even  now 
As  mad  as  the  vex'd  Sea:  singing  aloud  ! 
Crown'd  with  rank  fumiter,  and  furrow  weeds, 
With  harlocks,  hemlock,  nettles,  cuckoo-flowers, 
Darnel,  and  all  the  idle  weeds,  that  grow 
In  our  sustaining  Corn. 


07?,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  251 

SelMnSpcCttOn.  —  Skakspeare. 
'THY  Glass  will  show  thee  how  thy  beauties  wear, 

Thy  Dial  how  thy  precious  minutes  waste; 
The  vacant  Leaves  thy  mind's  imprint  will  bear, 

And  of  this  Book  this  learning  niay'st  thou  taste. 
The  wrinkles  which  thy  Glass  will  truly  show, 

Of  mouthed  graves  will  give  thee  memory ; 
Thou  by  thy  Dial's  shady  stealth  may'st  know 

Time's  thievish  progress  to  Eternity. 
Look,  what  thy  memory  cannot  contain, 

Commit  to  these  waste  Blanks,  and  thou  shalt  find 
Those  children  nursed,  deliver'd  from  thy  brain, 

To  take  a  new  acquaintance  of  thy  mind. 
These  offices,  so  oft  as  thou  wilt  look, 
Shall  profit  thee,  and  much  enrich  thy  Book. 

$n0pttatt'OtL  —  SJiakspeare. 
OUR  poesy  is  as  a  Gum,  which  oozes 

From  whence  'tis  nourish'd  :  The  fire  i'  the  flint 
Shows  not  till  it  be  struck ;  our  gentle  Flame 
Provokes  itself,  and,  like  the  current,  flies 
Each  bound  it  chafes. 

JfrtSpttattOn.  —  Greville. 
A    LIVELY  and  agreeable  man  has  not  only  the  merit  of  Live- 
liness and  Agreeableness  himself,  but  that  also  of  awakening 
them  in  others. 

IltSUltS.  —  CoJton. 
TNJURIES  accompanied  with  Insults  are  never  forgiven  :    all 
men,  on  these  occasions,  are  good  haters,  and  lay  out  their  Re- 
venge at  compound  interest. 

intellect.  —  La  Bruyere. 
TT  is  a  proof  of  Mediocrity  of  Intellect  to  be  addicted  to  relating 
stories. 

Intellect.  —  Coiton. 

TIMES  of  general  Calamity  and  Confusion  have  ever  been  pro- 
ductive of  the  greatest  Minds.     The  purest  ore  is  produced 
from  the  hottest  Furnace,  and  the  brightest  thunderbolt  is  elicited 
from  the  darkest  Storm. 

3fcalOU0£.  —  Byron. 
ITER  maids  were  old,  and  if  she  took  a  new  one, 
You  might  be  sure  she  was  a  perfect  fright : 
She  did  this  during  even  her  Husband's  life — 
I  recommend  as  much  to  every  Wife. 
w2 


252  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

SJcalOUSg.  —Hannah  More. 

0  Jealousy, 
Tliou  ugliest  Fiend  of  Hell !  thy  deadly  venom 
Preys  on  my  vitals,  turns  the  healthful  hue 
Of  my  fresh  cheek  to  haggard  sallowness, 
And  drinks  my  Spirit  up  ! 

gf  ealOUSp.  —  Shakspeare. 
Oh,  beware  of  Jealousy; 
It  is  the  green-eyed  Monster,  which  doth  mock 
The  meat  it  feeds  on. 

gfcalOUgg.  —  Shakspeare. 
T'HESE  are  the  forgeries  of  Jealousy  : 

And  never,  since  the  middle  summer's  spring, 
Met  we  on  hill,  in  dales,  forest,  or  mead, 
By  paved  fountain,  or  by  rushy  brook, 
Or  on  the  beached  margent  of  the  Sea, 
To  dance  our  ringlets  to  the  whistling  wind, 
But  with  thy  Brawls  thou  hast  disturb'd  our  sport. 

gealOUSg,  —  Mrs.  Tighe. 
'THAT  anxious  torture  may  I  never  feel, 

Which  doubtful,  watches  o'er  a  wandering  heart. 
Oh  !  who  that  bitter  Torment  can  reveal, 

Or  tell  the  pining  anguish  of  that  Smart ! 

In  those  affections  may  I  ne'er  have  part, 
Which  easily  transferr'd  can  learn  to  rove : 

No,  dearest  Cupid  !  when  I  feel  thy  dart, 
For  thy  sweet  Psyche's  sake  may  no  false  Love, 
The  tenderness  I  prize  lightly  from  me  remove  ! 

%j  ealOUSg.  —  Shakspeare. 
Oh,  how  hast  thou  with  Jealousy  infected 
The  Sweetness  of  affiance  ! 

3JealOU0g.  —  Thomson. 

But  through  the  heart 
Should  Jealousy  its  venom  once  diffuse, 
'Tis  then  delightful  Misery  no  more, 
But  Agony  unniix'd,  incessant  gall, 
Corroding  every  thought,  and  blasting  all 
Love's  Paradise.     Ye  fairy  prospects  then, 
Ye  beds  of  roses,  and  ye  bowers  of  joy, 
Farewell !  ye  gleamings  of  departed  peace, 
Shine  out  your  last !  the  yellow  tinging  Plague 
Internal  vision  taints,  and  in  a  night 
Of  vivid  gloom  Imagination  wraps. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  253 

glealOUSJ).  —  Shakspeare. 

I  never  gave  him  cause. 
But  jealous  souls  will  not  be  answer'd  so; 
They  are  not  ever  jealous  for  the  Cause, 
But  jealous,  for  they  are  jealous  :  'tis  a  Monster, 
Begot  upon  itself,  born  on  itself. 

0ealOUS  J).  —  Spenser. 

~^E  ever  is  he  wont  on  ought  to  feed 

But  todes  and  frogs  (his  pasture  poysonous) 
Which  in  his  cold  Complexion  doe  breed 

A  filthy  blood,  or  humor  rancorous, 

Matter  of  Doubt  and  dread  suspitious, 
That  doth  with  cureless  care  consume  the  Hart, 

Corrupts  the  stomacke  with  gall  vitious, 
Cross-cuts  the  liver  with  eternall  Smart, 
And  doth  transfixe  the  soule  with  Death's  eternall  dart. 

ScaiCUS}?.  —  Shakspeare. 
Trifles,  light  as  air, 
Are,  to  the  Jealous,  Confirmations  strong 
As  proofs  of  Holy  Writ. 

3kalOUSp.  —  Tacitus. 
TTE  who  is  next  heir  to  supreme  Power,  is  always  suspected  and 
hated  by  him  who  actually  wields  it. 

gJealOU0g.  —  Spenser. 

VET  is  there  one  more  cursed  than  they  all, 

That  Canker-worm,  that  Monster,  Jealousie, 
Which  eats  the  heart  and  feeds  upon  the  gall, 

Turning  all  Love's  delight  to  misery, 

Through  fear  of  losing  his  felicity. 
Ah,  Gods  !  that  ever  ye  that  Monster  placed 
In  gentle  love,  that  all  his  joys  defaced  ! 

^eaiOUgn.  —  Sir  Thomas  Overbury. 
A  jealous  Man  sleeps  dog  sleep. 

;?|eal0U!5P.  —  Spenser. 
"POWLE  Jealousie  !  that  turnest  love  divine 

To  joyless  dread,  and  mak'st  the  loving  Hart 
With  hatefull  thoughts  to  languish  and  to  pine, 
And  feed  itselfe  with  selfe-consuming  Smart : 
Of  all  the  Passions  in  the  mind  thou  vilest  art. 
Cije  Sestet.—  Horace. 
Yonder  he  drives — avoid  that  furious  beast : 
If  he  may  have  his  Jest,  he  never  cares 
At  whose  expense ;  nor  Friend  nor  patron  spares. 


254         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

%ft8tiVLQ.— Fuller. 
HTAKE  heed  of  Jesting  :  many  have  been  ruined  by  it.     It's  hard 
to  Jest,  and  not  sometimes  jeer  too;  which  oftentimes  sinks 
deeper  than  was  intended,  or  expected. 

gating.  —  Sheridan. 

'TO  smile  at  the  Jest  which  plants  a  Thorn  in  another's  breast, 
is  to  become  a  principal  in  the  Mischief. 

^Ofttng.  —  La  Brut/ere. 
JtfEVER  risk  a  Joke,  even  the  least  offensive  in  its  nature  and 
the  most  common,  with  a  person  who  is  not  well  bred,  and 
possessed  of  sense  to  comprehend  it. 

3f0g,  —  Shakspeare. 
Joy  had  the  like  conception  in  our  eyes, 
And,  at  that  instant,  like  a  Babe  sprung  up. 

3Sf  Cg.  —  Shakspeare. 
HTHE  night  of  Sorrow  now  is  turn'd  to  day : 

Her  two  blue  windows  faintly  she  up-heaveth, 
Like  the  fair  Sun,  when  in  his  fresh  array 
He  cheers  the  morn,  and  all  the  world  relieveth: 
And  as  the  bright  Sun  glorifies  the  sky, 
So  is  her  face  illumined  with  her  Eye. 

^fOJ).  —  SJiakspeare. 
You  have  bereft  me  of  all  words, 
Only  my  Blood  speaks  to  you  in  my  veins ; 
And  there  is  such  confusion  in  my  powers, 
As,  after  some  oration  fairly  spoke 
By  a  beloved  Prince,  there  doth  appear 
Among  the  buzzing  pleased  Multitude ; 
Where  every  something,  being  blent  together, 
Turns  to  a  wild  of  nothing,  save  of  Joy 
Exprest,  and  not  exprest. 

§0  g.  —Dry  den. 
My  heart's  so  full  of  Joy, 
That  I  shall  do  some  wild  extravagance 
Of  Love  in  public ;  and  the  foolish  world, 
Which  knows  not  Tenderness,  will  think  me  mad. 

^fOJ).  —  SJiakspeare. 
(^J.IVE  me  a  gash,  put  me  to  present  Pain ; 

Lest  this  great  sea  of  Joys  rushing  upon  me, 
O'erbear  the  shores  of  my  Mortality, 
And  drown  me  with  their  Sweetness 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  255 


^Op.  —  Shahspeare. 
I  HAVE  felt  so  many  quirks  of  Joy,  and  Grief, 
That  the  first  face  of  neither,  on  the  start. 
Can  woman  me  unto  't. 

3f0g.  —  Young.  _ 
"MATURE,  in  zeal  for  human  amity, 

Denies,  or  damps,  an  undivided  Joy. 
Joy  is  an  import ;  Joy  is  an  exchange ; 
Joy  flies  monopolists  :  it  calls  for  two ; 
Rich  Fruit !  Heaven  planted  !  never  pluek'd  by  one. 

3Tf)e  $Vti%Z.— Peter  Pindar. 
"VyHEN  Judges  a  campaigning  go, 

And  on  their  benches  look  so  big, 
What  gives  them  consequence,  I  trow, 
Is  nothing  but  a  Bushel  Wig. 

gjutigmg  (Dtijers.  —  Greviiie. 

TJE  that  sees  ever  so  accurately,  ever  so  finely  into  the  motives 
of  other  people's  Acting,  may  possibly  be  entirely  ignorant  as 
to  his  own  :  it  is  by  the  mental  as  the  corporeal  Eye,  the  object 
may  be  placed  too  near  the  Sight  to  be  seen  truly,  as  well  as  so 
far  off;  nay,  too  near  to  be  seen  at  all. 

glOigmcnt.  —  Shahspeare. 

What  we  oft  do  best 
By  sick  Interpreters,  once  weak  ones,  is 
Not  ours,  or  not  allow'd;   what  worst,  as  oft, 
Hitting  a  grosser  quality,  is  cried  up 
For  our  best  Act. 

glrtigmetTt.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
TyE  are  mistaken  in  supposing  that  Intellect  and  Judgment  are 
two  different  things.  Judgment  is  merely  the  Greatness  of 
the  Light  of  the  Mind  j  this  Light  penetrates  into  the  recesses  of 
things;  it  observes  there  every  thing  remarkable,  and  perceives 
what  appears  to  be  imperceptible.  Thus  it  must  be  allowed  that 
it  is  the  Greatness  of  the  Light  of  the  Mind  which  produces  all 
the  effects  attributed  to  Judgment. 

jjjtotopient.—  Svoift, 

TNVENTION  is  the  talent  of  youth,  and  Judgment  of  age  :  so 
that  our  Judgment  grows  harder  to  please,  when  we  have  fewer 
things  to  offer  it :  this  goes  through  the  whole  commerce  of  Life. 
When  we  are  old,  our  friends  find  it  difficult  to  please  us,  and  are 
less  concerned  whether  we  be  pleased  or  not. 


256  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

gjfugtmmtt.  —  Shakspeare. 

Men's  Judgments  are 
A  parcel  of  their  Fortunes ;  and  things  outward 
Do  draw  the  inward  Quality  after  them, 
To  suffer  all  alike. 

$  UtJgmettt.  —  Steele. 
'THE  most  necessary  talent  in  a  man  of  Conversation,  which  is 
what  we  ordinarily  intend  by  a  Gentleman,  is  a  good  Judgment. 
He  that  has  this  in  perfection  is  master  of  his  Companion,  without 
letting  him  see  it ;  and  has  the  same  advantage  over  men  of  any 
other  qualifications  whatsoever,  as  one  that  can  see  would  have 
over  a  blind  man  of  ten  times  his  strength. 

gfurtSprutJence.  —  Webster. 
JUSTICE  is  the  great  interest  of  man  on  earth.  It  is  the  ligament 
which  holds  civilized  beings  and  civilized  nations  together. 
Wherever  her  temple  stands,  and  so  long  as  it  is  duly  honoured, 
there  is  a  foundation  for  social  security,  general  happiness,  and  the 
improvement  and  progress  of  our  race.  And  whoever  labours  on 
this  edifice  with  usefulness  and  distinction,  whoever  clears  its  founda- 
tions, strengthens  its  pillars,  adorns  its  entablatures,  or  contributes 
to  raise  its  august  dome  still  higher  in  the  skies,  connects  himself, 
in  name,  and  fame,  and  character,  with  that  which  is  and  must  be 
as  durable  as  the  frame  of  human  society. 

gtettCe.  —  Cotton. 
I~F  strict  Justice  be  not  the  rudder  of  all  our  other  Virtues,  the 
faster  we  sail,  the  farther  we  shall  find  ourselves  from  "  that 
Haven  where  we  would  be." 

^USttCe.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
JUSTICE  is  in  general  only  a  lively  apprehension  of  being  de- 
prived of  what  belongs  to  us ;  hence  arise  our  great  considera- 
tion and  respect  for  all  the  interests  of  our  Neighbour,  and  our 
scrupulous  care  to  avoid  doing  him  an  injury.  This  fear  retains 
men  within  the  limits  of  those  advantages  which  Birth  or  Fortune 
has  given  them ;  and,  without  it,  they  would  be  making  continual 
Inroads  upon  others. 

gUgttCe*  —  Cotton. 
/^JARNEADES,  whom  Cicero  so  much  dreaded,  maintained  that 
there  was  no  such  thing  as  Justice!  and  he  supported  his 
theory  by  such  Sophisms  as  these  :  that  the  condition  of  men  is 
such  that  if  they  have  a  mind  to  be  just,  they  must  act  impru- 
dently ;  and  that  if  they  have  a  mind  to  act  prudently,  they  must 
be  unjust;  and  that,  it  follows,  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as 
Justice,  because  a  Virtue  inseparable  from  a  Folly  cannot  be  just 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  257 

Lactautius  is  correct  when  he  affirms  that  the  heathens  could  not 
answer  this  Sophism,  and  that  Cicero  dared  not  undertake  it.  The 
error  was  this,  the  restricting  of  the  value  of  Justice  to  temporal 
things  :  for  to  those  who  disbelieve  a  future  state,  or  even  have 
doubts  about  it,  "Honesty  is  not  always  the  best  policy;"  and  it 
is  reserved  for  Christians,  who  take  into  their  consideration  the 
whole  existence  of  man,  to  argue  clearly  and  consequentially  on 
the  sterling  value  of  Justice.  It  is  well  known  that  Hume  him- 
self was  never  so  much  puzzled  as  when  peremptorily  asked,  by  a 
lady  at  Bath,  to  declare,  upon  his  Honour  as  a  Gentleman,  whether 
he  would  choose  his  own  confidential  domestics  from  such  as  held 
his  own  principles,  or  from  those  who  conscientiously  believed  the 
eternal  truths  of  Revelation.  He  frankly  decided  in  favour  of  the 
latter ! 

gfUSttCe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Poise  the  cause  in  Justice'  equal  scales, 
Whose  Beam  stands  sure,  whose  rightful  cause  prevails. 

gusttce  arils  Becencg.  —  Cicero. 

JUSTICE  consists  in  doing  no  injury  to  men;  Decency,  in  giv- 
ing them  no  offence. 

WUrilmtMS.  —  Shakspeare. 

You  are  liberal  in  offers  : 
You  taught  me  first  to  beg;  and  now,  methinks, 
You  teach  me  how  a  Beggar  should  be  answer'd. 

l&trttmeSS.  —  Joanna  Baillie. 
A  willing  Heart  adds  feather  to  the  heel, 
And  makes  the  clown  a  winged  Mercury. 

Cj)e  iAt1l0.  —  Shakspeare. 
There  is  such  divinity  doth  hedge  a  King, 
That  Treason  can  but  peep  to  what  it  would, 
Acts  little  of  his  will. 

Cf)e  UitlQ.  — Shakspeare. 

0  Majesty  ! 
When  thou  dost  pinch  thy  bearer,  thou  dost  sit 
Like  a  rich  Armour  worn  in  heat  of  day, 
That  scalds  with  Safety. 

lAitotoletise  of  ti)e  &2£orttJ.  —  Coiton. 

j-TE  that  knows  a  little  of  the  World,  will  admire  it  enough  to 
fall  down  and  worship  it :  but  he  that  knows  it  most,  will 
most  despise  it. 

Superficial  I£notoletJge.  — Fuller. 

He  that  sips  of  many  Arts,  drinks  of  none. 


258  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Spiritual  IftNOtoletjge*  —  Bishop  Sprat. 
,rJ^IS-  the  property  of  all  true  Knowledge,  especially  spiritual,  to 
enlarge  the  Soul  by  filling  it  j  to  enlarge  it  without  swelling 
it;  to  make  it  more  capable,  and  more  earnest  to  know,  the  more 
it  knows. 

Selfsltnotoletoge.  —  Coiton. 

]yjAN,  if  he  compare  himself  with  all  that  he  can  see,  is  at  the 
Zenith  of  Power ;  but  if  he  compare  himself  with  all  that  he 
can  conceive,  he  is  at  the  Nadir  of  Weakness. 

Subtle  IftttOtoletJge.  —Joanna  Baillie. 
Deep  subtle  wits, 
In  truth,  are  master-spirits  in  the  world. 
The  brave  man's  Courage,  and  the  student's  Lore, 
Are  but  as  tools  his  secret  ends  to  work, 
Who  hath  the  Skill  to  use  them. 

l&notoletrge*  —  Coiton. 

'JHAT  is  indeed  a  twofold  Knowledge,  which  profits  alike  by  the 
Folly  of  the  foolish,  and  the  Wisdom  of  the  wise.     It  is  both  a 
shield  and  a  sword ;  it  borrows  its  Security  from  the  darkness,  and 
its  confidence  from  the  light. 

l&ttotolefcge.  —  Cowper. 

J^NOWLEDGE  and  Wisdom,  far  from 'being  one, 

Have  ofttimes  no  connexion.     Knowledge  dwells 
In  heads  replete  with  Thoughts  of  other  men, 
Wisdom  in  minds  attentive  to  their  own. 

l&notoletige,  —  Lavater. 
T'HREE  days  of  uninterrupted  Company  in  a  vehicle  will  make 
you  better  acquainted  with  another,  than  one  hour's  Conversa- 
tion with  him  every  day  for  three  years. 

iSttOtoU&jje*— Byron. 

Knowledge  is  not  Happiness,  and  Science 
But  an  exchange  of  Ignorance  for  that 
Which  is  another  kind  of  Ignorance. 

l&notoletjge.  —  Coiton. 

TpHE  profoundly  wise  do  not  declaim  against  superficial  Know- 
ledge in  others,  so  much  as  the  profoundly  ignorant ;  on  the 
contrary,  they  would  rather  assist  it  with  their  Advice  than  over- 
whelm it  with  their  Contempt ;  for  they  know  that  there  was  a 
period  when  even  a  Bacon  or  a  Newton  were  superficial,  and  that 
he  who  has  a  little  Knowledge  is  far  more  likely  to  get  more  than 
ne  that  has  none. 


OR,   THINGS    NEW  AND    OLD.  259 

Itttotoletige.  —Milton. 

Not  to  know  at  large  of  things  remote 
From  use,  obscure  and  subtle,  but  to  know 
That  which  before  us  lies  in  daily  life, 
Is  the  prime  Wisdom ;  what  is  more,  is  fume, 
Or  Emptiness,  or  fond  Impertinence, 
And  renders  us  in  things  that  most  concern 
Unpractised,  unprepared,  and  still  to  seek. 

3£notoIefcge.  —  Shakspeare. 
"VT EN'S  faults  do  seldom  to  themselves  appear, 

Their  own  Transgressions  partially  they  smother: 
Oh !  how  are  they  wrapt  in  with  infamies, 
That  from  their  own  Misdeeds  askance  their  eyes ! 

l&notolrtrge.  —  Coiton. 

'TO  despise  our  species,  is  the  price  we  must  too  often  pay  for  our 


Knowledge  of  it. 

ftttutolefcge.  —  Prior. 
T>EMEMBER  that  the  cursed  desire  to  know, 
Offspring  of  Adam !  was  thy  source  of  Wo. 
Why  wilt  thou  then  renew  the  vain  pursuit, 
And  rashly  catch  at  the  forbidden  Fruit; 
With  empty  labour  and  eluded  strife 
Seeking,  by  Knowledge,  to  attain  to  life ; 
For  ever  from  that  fatal  tree  debarr'd, 
Which  naming  Swords  and  angry  cherubs  guard? 

IKttOtoletige.  —  Spenser. 
Base  minded  they  that  want  Intelligence ; 
For  God  himself  for  Wisdom  most  is  praised, 
And  men  to  God  thereby  are  nighest  raised. 

l£notoietige.  —  Moore. 
rTHE  wish  to  know — that  endless  Thirst, 
Which  even  by  quenching  is  awaked, 
And  which  becomes  or  blest  or  curst, 

As  is  the  Fount  whereat  'tis  slaked — 
Still  urged  me  onward,  with  Desire 
Insatiate,  to  explore,  inquire. 

l&notoletjge.  —  Coiton. 

"P"VEN  human  Knowledge  is  permitted  to  approximate  in  some 
degree,  and  on  certain  occasions,  to  that  of  the  Deity,  its  pure 
and  primary  source  ;  and  this  assimilation  is  never  more  con- 
spicuous than  when  it  converts  evil  into  the  means  of  producing 
its  opposite  good. 

X 


260  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

ItttOtoletige*  —  Butler. 
He  knew  what's  what,  and  that's  as  high 
As  metaphysic  Wit  can  fly. 

IfcttOlbiffcge,  —  Shakspeare. 

Ignorance  is  the  curse  of  God, 
Knowledge  the  wing  wherewith  we  fly  to  Heaven. 

Iftttutolefcge,  —  Milton. 

Knowledge  is  as  food,  and  needs  no  less 
Her  temp'rance  over  appetite,  to  know 
In  measure  what  the  mind  may  well  contain; 
Oppresses  else  with  surfeit,  and  soon  turns 
Wisdom  to  Folly. 

HafiOUt*  — La  Rochefoucauld. 
PJODILY  Labour  alleviates  the  pains  of  the  Mind;  and  hence 
arises  the  Happiness  of  the  poor. 

HallOUt,—  Cowper. 
PJOME  hither,  ye  that  press  your  beds  of  down, 

And  sleep  not :  see  him  sweating  o'er  his  bread 
Before  he  eats  it. — 'Tis  the  primal  curse, 
But  soften'd  into  Mercy ;  made  the  pledge 
Of  cheerful  Days,  and  Nights  without  a  groan. 

3Lat)0Ur.—  Anon. 
TVHE  pernicious,  debilitating  tendencies  of  bodily  Pleasure  need 
to  be  counteracted  by  the  invigorating  exercises  of  bodily  La- 
bour; whereas  bodily  Labour  without  bodily  Pleasure  converts  the 
body  into  a  mere  machine,  and  brutifies  the  Soul. 

Hanguage,—  p.  g.  Niebuhr. 

HTHE  writer,  or  even  the  student,  of  History,  ought,  if  possible, 
to  know  all  nations  in  their  own  Tongue.  Languages  have  one 
inscrutable  origin — as  have  all  national  peculiarities — and  he  has 
but  an  imperfect  knowledge  of  a  people  who  does  not  know  their 
Language. 

Hanguage,  —  w.  b.  ciuiow. 

'THE  study  of  Languages  has  given  a  character  to  modern  minds, 
by  the  habits  of  discrimination  and  analysis  which  it  requires, 
and  has  partly  contributed  to  the  present  advancement  of  Science 
and  reasoning.  To  represent  it  as  nothing  but  a  criticism  of 
words,  or  an  exercise  of  memory,  is  utterly  erroneous.  It  demands 
no  trifling  Perspicacity  and  Judgment ;  admits  the  operations  even 
of  Fancy,  picturing  things  of  which  words  are  but  the  symbols ; 
and  tends  to  promote  quickness  and  depth  of  Apprehension.  A 
good  Linguist  is  always  a  man  of  considerable  acuteness,  and  often 
of  pre-eminent  taste. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  261 

Eanguage.  —  Coleridge. 
Sublimity  is  Hebrew  by  birth. 

Uanguage.—  Avon. 

"pSCHEW  fine  Words,  as  you  would  rouge :  love  simple  ones,  as 
you  would  native  Roses  on  your  cbeeks.  Act  as  you  might  be 
disposed  to  do  on  your  estate  :  employ  such  Words  as  have  the 
largest  families,  keep  clear  of  Foundlings,  and  of  those  of  which 
nobody  can  tell  whence  they  come,  unless  he  happens  to  be  a 
scholar. 

Cf)e  Uatfc.  —  Thomson. 

Up  springs  the  Lark, 
Shrill  voiced  and  loud,  the  messenger  of  Morn ; 
Ere  yet  the  shadows  fly,  he  mounted  sings, 
Amid  the  dawning  clouds,  and  from  their  haunts 
Calls  up  the  tuneful  Nations. 

Cf)e  Uarfe.  —  Southey. 

Loud  sung  the  Lark,  the  awaken'd  maid 
Beheld  him  twinkling  in  the  morning  light, 
And  wish'd  for  Wings  and  Liberty  like  his. 

Haugijter.  —  Greviiie. 

A/FAN  is  the  only  creature  endowed  with  the  power  of  Laughter; 
is  he  not  also  the  only  one  that  deserves  to  be  laughed  at  ? 

?Laugf)tet.  —  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 
QUR  comedians  think  there  is  no  Delight  without  Laughter,  which 
is  very  wrong ;  for  though  Laughter  may  come  with  Delight, 
yet  cometh  it  not  of  Delight,  as   though  Delight  should  be  the 
cause  of  Laughter;  but  well  may  one  thing  breed  two  together. 

?lato  anft  13J)ptc.  —  Coiton. 

PETTIFOGGERS  in  Law,  and  Empirics  in  Medicine,  whether 
their  patents  lose  or  save  their  property,  or  their  lives,  take 
care  to  be,  in  either  case,  equally  remunerated ;  they  profit  by  both 
horns  of  the  Dilemma,  and  press  defeat  no  less  than  success  into 
their  service.  They  hold,  from  time  immemorial,  the  fee  simple 
of  a  vast  estate,  subject  to  no  alienation,  diminution,  revolution, 
nor  tax ;   the  Folly  and  Ignorance  of  Mankind. 

?lato  atttJ  ^ijpgtc.  —  Fuller. 
QOMMONLY,  Physicians,  like  beer,  are  best  when  they  are  old ; 
and  Lawyers,  like  bread,  when  they  are  young  and  new. 

Uato  of  Oebelopment.  —  Coiton. 

'THE  light  of  other  minds  is  as  necessary  to  the  play  and  the 

Development  of  Genius,  as  the  light  of  other  bodies  is  to  the 

play  and  radiation  of  the  Diamond.     A  Diamond,  incarcerated  in 


262         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

its  subterraneous  prison,  rough  and  unpolished,  differs  not  from  a 
common  stone ;  and  a  Newton  or  a  Shakspeare,  deprived  of  kindred 
minds,  and  born  amongst  savages — Savages  had  died. 

Uato  ^Learning.  —  win. 

'THERE  is  a  great  deal  of  Law  Learning  that  is  dry,  dark,  cold, 
revolting — but  it  is  an  old  feudal  castle,  in  perfect  preservation, 
which  the  legal  architect,  who  aspires  to  the  first  honours  of  his  pro- 
fession, will  delight  to  explore,  and  learn  all  the  uses  to  which  its 
various  parts  used  to  be  put :  and  he  will  the  better  understand, 
enjoy  and  relish  the  progressive  improvements  of  the  science  in 
modern  times. 

Hato,—  Cotton. 
'THE  science  of  Legislation  is  like  that  of  Medicine  in  one  respect: 
that  it  is  far  more  easy  to  point  out  what  will  do  harm,  than 
what  will  do  good. 

IL&ta).  —  Shakspeare. 
"V\TE  must  not  make  a  scarecrow  of  the  Law, 

Setting  it  up  to  fear  the  Birds  of  Prey, 
And  let  it  keep  one  shape,  till  Custom  make  it 
Their  perch,  and  not  their  terror. 

Ueammg.  —  Chesterjield. 
A  MAN  of  the  best  parts  and  greatest  Learning,  if  he  does  not 
know  the  world  by  his  own  experience  and  observation,  will 
be  very  absurd,  and  consequently  very  unwelcome  in  Company. 
He  may  say  very  good  things;  but  they  will  be  probably  so  ill- 
timed,  misplaced,  or  improperly  addressed,  that  he  had  much  better 
hold  his  tongue. 

ILWXninQ.  — Steele. 

TTE  that  wants  Good  Sense  is  unhappy  in  having  Learning,  for 
he  has  thereby  only  more  ways  of  exposing  himself;  and  he 
that  has  Sense,  knows  that  Learning  is  not  Knowledge,  but  rather 
the  art  of  using  it. 

Ueantmg.  —  Sir  William  Temple. 
"V\THO  can  tell  whether  Learning  may  not  even  weaken  Inven- 
tion, in  a  man  that  has  great  advantages  from  nature  and 
birth ;  whether  the  weight  and  number  of  so  many  men's  thoughts 
and  notions  may  not  suppress  his  own,  or  hinder  the  motion  and 
agitation  of  them,  from  which  all  Invention  arises;  as  heaping  on 
wood,  or  too  many  sticks,  or  too  close  together,  suppresses,  and 
sometimes  quite  extinguishes  a  little  Spark,  that  would  otherwise 
have  grown  up  to  a  noble  Flame. 

iLeanung.  —  Bishop  Taylor. 
To  be  proud  of  Learning,  is  the  greatest  Ignorance. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD.  2(>3 

H  earning.—  Young. 

Your  Learning,  like  the  lunar  beam,  affords 
Light,  but  not  heat ;  it  leaves  you  undevout, 
Frozen  at  heart,  while  Speculation  shines. 

learning.—  Milton. 

THE  end  of  Learning  is  to  know  God,  and  out  of  that  knowledge 
to  love  him,  and  to  imitate  him,  as  we  may  the  nearest,  by 
possessing  our  souls  of  true  Virtue. 

^Learning. —Bishop  Earie. 

A  PRETENDER  to  Learning  is  one  that  would  make  all  others 
more  fools  than  himself,  for  though  he  know  nothing,  he  would 
not  have  the  world  know  so  much.  He  conceits  nothing  in  Learn- 
ing but  the  opinion,  which  he  seeks  to  purchase  without  it,  though 
he  might  with  less  labour  cure  his  ignorance  than  hide  it.  His 
business  and  retirement  is  his  Study,  and  he  protests  no  delight 
to  it  comparable.  He  is  a  great  Nomenclator  of  Authors,  which 
he  has  read  in  general  in  the  catalogue,  and  in  particular  in  the 
Title,  and  goes  seldom  so  far  as  the  Dedication.  He  never  talks 
of  any  thing  but  Learning,  and  learns  all  from  talking.  Three  en- 
counters with  the  same  men  pump  him.  He  has  taken  pains  to  be 
an  Ass,  though  not  to  be  a  Scholar,  and  is  at  length  discovered  and 
laughed  at. 

U  earning.—  Seiden. 

"^"0  man  is  the  wiser  for  his  Learning :  it  may  administer  matter 
to  work  in,  or  objects  to  work  upon ;  but  Wit  and  Wisdom  are 
born  with  a  man. 

Ueamtng.  —  Young. 
'T/'ORACIOUS  Learning,  often  over-fed, 

Digests  not  into  Sense  her  motley  meal. 
This  Bookcase,  with  dark  booty  almost  burst, 
This  forager  on  others'  Wisdom,  leaves 
Her  native  farm,  her  reason,  quite  untill'd. 

ILearntng.—  Powell. 

1TE  who  has  no  Inclination  to  learn  more,  will  be  very  apt  to 
think  that  he  knows  enough. 

UetSUre.  —  Franklin. 
"PMPLOY  thy  time  well,  if  thou  meanest  to  gain  leisure;  and 
since  thou  art  not  sure  of  a  minute,  throw  not  away  an  hour. 
Leisure  is  time  for  doing  something  useful ;  this  leisure  the  diligent 
man  will  obtain,  but  the  lazy  man  never;  for  a  life  of  leisure  and 
a  life  of  laziness  are  two  things. 

x2 


264  ILLUSTRATION'S   OF   TRUTH; 

ILmVLXt.— Johnson. 
VOU  cannot  give  an  instance  of  any  man  who  is  permitted  to  lay 
out  his  own  Time,  contriving  not  to  have  tedious  Hours. 

ftenttg,  —  Goethe. 
TT  is  only  necessary  to  grow  old  to  become  more  indulgent.     I 
see  no  Fault  committed  that  I  have  not  committed  myself. 

Hettttg.  —  Shakspeare. 
\\THEN  Lenity  and  Cruelty  play  for  a  kingdom,  the  gentler 
gamester  is  the  soonest  winner. 

Hebttg.  —  Seneca. 
TEVITY  of  Behaviour  is  the  bane  of  all  that  is  good  and  vir- 
tuous. 

W§Z  yLiWC.  — Shakspeare. 
Past  all  shame,  so  past  all  Truth. 

Hlfoetaittg,  —  La  Bruyere. 
T  IBERALITY  consists  less  in  giving  profusely,  than  in  giving 
judiciously. 

Hftertfi.—  Addison. 
Q  LIBERTY,  thou  goddess,  heavenly  bright, 

Profuse  of  bliss,  and  pregnant  with  delight ! 
Eternal  Pleasures  in  thy  presence  reign, 
And  smiling  Plenty  leads  thy  wanton  train ; 
Eased  of  her  load  Subjection  grows  more  light, 
And  poverty  looks  cheerful  in  thy  sight; 
Thou  mak'st  the  gloomy  face  of  Nature  gay, 
Givest  Beauty  to  the  sun,  and  Pleasure  to  the  day. 

ILtuertg.  —  Drijden. 
The  love  of  Liberty  with  life  is  given, 
And  life  itself  th'  inferior  gift  of  Heaven. 

Ettetg.—  Byron. 
So  let  them  ease  their  Hearts  with  prate 
Of  equal  rights,  which  man  ne'er  knew. 

Utfiertg.—  Byron. 
J^TERNAL  Spirit  of  the  chainless  mind  ! 
Brightest  in  dungeons,  Liberty  !  thou  art, 
For  there  thy  habitation  is  the  Heart — 
The  Heart  which  love  of  thee  alone  can  bind  : 
And  when  thy  sons  to  fetters  are  consign'd — 
To  fetters  and  the  damp  vault's  dayless  gloom, 
Their  country  conquers  with  their  Martyrdom, 
And  Freedom's  fame  finds  wings  on  every  wind. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  265 

Utfcertp,—  Byron. 
'HPIS  vain — my  tongue  cannot  impart 
My  almost  drunkenness  of  Heart, 
When  first  this  liberated  eye 
Survey'd  Earth,  Ocean,  Sun,  and  Sky, 
As  if  my  spirit  pierced  them  through 
And  all  their  inmost  wonders  knew  ! 
One  word  alone  can  paint  to  thee 
That  more  than  feeling — I  was  Free  ! 
E'en  for  thy  presence  ceased  to  pine : 
The  World — nay — Heaven  itself  was  mine  ! 

Utfiertg.—  Byron. 
"\TOTION  was  in  their  days,  Rest  in  their  slumbers, 

And  Cheerfulness  the  handmaid  of  their  toil  ; 
Nor  yet  too  many  nor  too  few  their  numbers ; 

Corruption  could  not  make  their  hearts  her  soil ; 
The  lust  which  stings,  the  Splendour  which  encumbers ; 

With  the  free  foresters  divide  no  spoil; 
Serene  not  sullen,  were  the  Solitudes 
Of  this  unsighing  people  of  the  woods. 

Utfcertp.—  Byron. 
The  Wish — which  ages  have  not  yet  subdued 
In  Man — to  have  no  master  save  his  mood. 

ILtfc.  —  Addison. 
AS  it  is  the  chief  concern  of  wise  men  to  retrench  the  evils  of 
Life  by  the  reasonings  of  Philosophy,  it  is  the  employment  of 
fools  to  multiply  them  by  the  Sentiments  of  Superstition. 

11  ift.  —  La  Bruyere. 
'THERE  is  a  time,  which  precedes  Reason,  when,  like  other  ani- 
mals, we  live  by  instinct  alone ;  of  which  the  Memory  retains  no 
vestiges.  There  is  a  second  term,  when  Reason  discovers  itself, 
when  it  is  formed,  and  might  act,  if  it  were  not  hoodwinked,  as  it 
were,  and  manacled  by  vices  of  the  Constitutiom,  and  a  chain  of 
Passions,  which  succeed  one  another,  till  the  third  and  last  age : 
Reason  then  being  in  its  full  force,  naturally  should  assert  its  dig- 
nity, and  control  the  appetites;  but  it  is  impaired  and  benumbed 
by  years,  sickness,  and  pains,  and  shattered  by  the  disorder  of  the 
declining  Machine;  yet  these  years,  with  their  several  imperfec- 
tions, constitute  the  Life  of  Man. 

l,tfe.--  chtom. 

TF  you  would  be  known,  and  not  know,  vegetate  in  a  Village;  if 
you  would  know,  and  not  be  known,  live  in  a  City. 


266  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 

ILtfp,  —  Shakspeare. 
A  LL  the  world's  a  Stage, 

And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  Players ; 
They  have  their  Exits  and  their  Entrances, 
And  one  man  in  his  time  plays  many  parts : 
His  acts  being  seven  ages.     At  first  the  Infant, 
Mewling  and  puking  in  the  nurse's  arms : 
And  then  the  whining  School-boy,  with  his  satchel, 
And  shining  morning  face,  creeping  like  snail 
Unwillingly  to  school.     And  then  the  lover ) 
Sighing  like  Furnace,  with  a  woful  ballad 
Made  to  his  mistress'  eye-brow.     Then  a  Soldier; 
Full  of  strange  oaths,  and  bearded  like  the  pard, 
Jealous  in  Honour,  sudden  and  quick  in  quarrel ; 
Seeking  the  bubble  Reputation 

Even  in  the  cannon's  mouth.     And  then  the  Justice 
In  fair  round  belly,  with  good  capon  lined, 
With  eyes  severe,  and  beard  of  formal  cut, 
Full  of  wise  saws  and  modern  instances, 
And  so  he  plays  his  Part.     The  sixth  age  shifts 
Into  the  lean  and  slipper'd  Pantaloon, 
With  spectacles  on  nose,  and  pouch  on  side  : 
His  youthful  hose  well  saved,  a  world  too  wide 
For  his  shrunk  Shank  )  and  his  big  manly  voice, 
Turning  again  toward  childish  treble,  pipes, 
And  whistles  in  his  sound.     Last  Scene  of  all, 
That  ends  this  strange  eventful  History, 
Is  second  Childishness,  and  mere  oblivion, 
Sans  teeth,  sans  eyes,  sans  taste,  sans  every  thing. 

Etfe.  —  Smth. 
QELDOM  shall  we  see  in  Cities,  Courts,  and  rich  families  where 
men  live  plentifully,  and  eat  and  drink  freely,  that  perfect 
Health,  that  athletic  soundness  and  vigour  of  Constitution,  which 
is  commonly  seen  in  the  country,  in  poor  houses  and  cottages, 
where  Nature  is  their  cook,  and  Necessity  their  caterer,  and  where 
they  have  no  other  doctor  but  the  Sun  and  fresh  air,  and  that  such 
a  one  as  never  sends  them  to  the  Apothecary. 

Htfe.  —Byron. 
'THERE  still  are  many  Rainbows  in  your  sky, 

But  mine  have  vanish'd.     All,  when  Life  is  new, 
Commence  with  feelings  warm,  and  prospects  high ; 

But  Time  strips  our  Illusions  of  their  hue, 
And  one  by  one  in  turn,  some  grand  mistake, 
Casts  off  its  bright  skin  yearly  like  the  Snake. 


OR,     THINGS    NEW    AND     OLD.  267 

Utfe.  _  Pope. 
'THE  vanity  of  Human  Life  is  like  a  Kiver,  constantly  passing 
away,  and  yet  constantly  coming  on. 

Htf0.  —  Shakspeare. 
REASON  thus  with  Life  :  A  breath  thou  art, 

(Servile  to  all  the  skiey  influences,) 
That  dost  this  Habitation,  where  thou  keep'st, 
Hourly  afflict :  merely,  thou  art  Death's  fool ; 
For  him  thou  labour' st  by  thy  flight  to  shun, 
And  yet  run'st  toward  him  still :  Thou  art  not  noble ; 
For  all  the  accommodations  that  thou  bear'st 
Are  nursed  by  Baseness :  Thou  art  by  no  means  valiant; 
For  thou  dost  fear  the  soft  and  tender  fork 
Of  a  poor  worm :  Thy  best  of  rest  is  sleep, 
And  that  thou  oft  provokest. 

Thou  art  not  thyself; 
For  thou  exist'st  on  many  a  thousand  grains 
That  issue  out  of  Dust :  Happy  thou  art  not : 
For  what  thou  hast  not,  still  thou  strivest  to  get; 
And  what  thou  hast,  forget'st:  Thou  art  not  certain; 
For  thy  complexion  shifts  to  strange  effects, 
After  the  Moon  :  If  thou  art  rich,  thou  art  poor; 
For,  like  an  ass,  whose  back  with  ingots  bows, 
Thou  bear'st  thy  heavy  riches  but  a  Journey, 
And  Death  unloads  thee  :  Friends  hast  thou  none ; 
For  thine  own  bowels,  which  do  call  thee  sire, 
The  mere  effusion  of  thy  proper  loins, 
Do  curse  the  Gout,  serpigo,  and  the  rheum, 
For  ending  thee  no  sooner :  Thou  hast  nor  youth  nor  age ; 
But,  as  it  were,  an  after-dinner's  sleep, 
Dreaming  on  both  :  for  all  thy  blessed  Youth 
Becomes  as  aged,  and  doth  beg  the  alms 
Of  palsied  eld ;  and  when  thou  art  old,  and  rich, 
Thou  hast  neither  Heart,  affection,  limb,  nor  beauty, 
To  make  thy  riches  pleasant.     Yet  in  this  life 
Lie  hid  more  thousand  deaths :  yet  Death  we  fear. 

3Ltf0*  —  SJiakspeare. 
THIS  is  the  state  of  Man ;  to-day  he  puts  forth 

The  tender  leaves  of  Hope,  to-morrow  blossoms, 
And  bears  his  blushing  Honours  thick  upon  him  : 
The  third  day,  comes  a  Frost,  a  killing  Frost ; 
And, — when  he  thinks,  good  easy  man,  full  surely 
His  Greatness  is  a  ripening, — nips  his  Fruit, 
And  then  he  falls. 


268  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

Etfe.  —  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
TJESTOW  thy  Youth  so  that  thou  mayst  have  comfort  to  re- 
member it,  when  it  hath  forsaken  thee,  and  not  sigh  and  grieve 
at  the  account  thereof.  Whilst  thou  art  young  thou  wilt  think  it 
will  never  have  an  end  :  but  behold,  the  longest  day  hath  his 
evening,  and  that  thou  shalt  enjoy  it  but  once,  that  it  never  turns 
again  ;  use  it  therefore  as  the  Spring-time,  which  soon  departeth, 
and  wherein  thou  oughtest  to  plant  and  sow  all  provisions  for  a 
long  and  happy  Life. 

!L  if t.— Prior. 
A    FLOWER  that  does  with  opening  morn  arise, 
And,  flourishing  the  day,  at  evening  dies ; 
A  winged  Eastern  Blast,  just  skimming  o'er 
The  ocean's  brow,  and  sinking  on  the  shore; 
A  Fire,  whose  flames  through  crackling  stubble  fly, 
A  Meteor  shooting  from  the  summer  sky ; 
A  Bowl  adown  the  bending  Mountain  roll'd; 
A  Bubble  breaking,  and  a  Fable  told ; 
A  Noontide  Shadow,  and  a  Midnight  Dream; 
Are  emblems  which,  with  semblance  apt,  proclaim 
Our  Earthly  Course. 

Utfe.  —  La  Bruyere. 
A    MAN  is  thirty  years  old  before  he  has  any  settled  thoughts  of 
his  Fortune :  it  is  not  completed  before  fifty  j  he  falls  a  build- 
ing in  his  old  age,  and  dies  by  that  time  his  House  is  in  a  condition 
to  be  painted  and  glazed. 

iltfe,  — Addison. 
'THE  ready  way  to  the  right  enjoyment  of  Life  is,  by  a  prospect 
toward  another,  to  have  but  a  very  mean  opinion  of  it. 

Htfe.—  Byron. 
T\Z"HEN  we  have  made  our  love,  and  gamed  our  gaming, 
Dress'd,  voted,  shone,  and,  may  be,  something  more; 
With  dandies  dined  ;  heard  senators  declaiming  ; 
Seen  beauties  brought  to  market  by  the  score  • 
Sad  rakes  to  sadder  husbands  chastely  taming ; 

There's  little  left  but  to  be  bored  or  bore. 
Witness  those  "ci  devant  jeunes  hommes,"  who  stem 
The  stream,  nor  leave  the  world  that  leaveth  them. 

iLtfe,  —  Scott. 
A  ND  there  the  fisherman  his  sail  unfurl'd, 

The  goat-herd  drove  his  kids  to  steep  Ben-Ghoil, 
Before  the  hut  the  dame  her  spindle  turn'd, 

Courting  the  sunbeam  as  she  plied  her  toil ; 
For,  wake  where'er  he  may,  man  wakes  to  Care  and  toil. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  269 

UtfC—  Moore. 
~pOR  Time  will  come  with  all  its  blights, 

The  ruin'd  Hope — the  friend  unkind — 
The  love,  that  leaves,  where'er  it  lights, 

A  chill'd  or  burning  Heart  behind  ! 

Htfe.  —  La  Bruyere. 
TF  you  suppress  the  exorbitant  love  of  Pleasure  and  Money,  idle 
Curiosity,  iniquitous  pursuits  and  wanton  Mirth,  what  a  still- 
ness would  there  be  in  the  greatest  Cities  !  the  necessaries  of  life  do 
not  occasion,  at  most,  a  third  part  of  the  Hurry. 

Htfe.—  Byron. 
A  MBITION  was  my  idol,  which  was  broken 

Before  the  shrines  of  Sorrow  and  of  Pleasure; 
And  the  two  last  have  left  me  many  a  token 

O'er  which  reflection  may  be  made  at  leisure. 

ILtf  0.  —  La  Bruyere. 
TF  this  Life  is  unhappy,  it  is  a  burden  to  us  which  it  is  difficult 
to  bear ;  if  it  is  in  every  respect  happy,  it  is  dreadful  to  be  de- 
prived of  it ;  so  that  in  either  case  the  result  is  the  same,  for  we 
must  exist  in  Anxiety  and  Apprehension. 

Htfe.  —  Prior. 
Who  breathes,  must  suffer ;  and  who  thinks,  must  mourn, 
And  he  alone  is  bless'd,  who  ne'er  was  born. 

ILlU.  —  Byron. 
J^ETWEEN  two  worlds  Life  hovers  like  a  star, 

'Twixt  night  and  morn,  upon  the  horizon's  verge. 
How  little  do  we  know  that  which  we  are  ! 

How  less  what  we  may  be  !     The  eternal  surge 
Of  Time  and  Tide  rolls  on,  and  bears  afar 

Our  bubbles ;  as  the  old  burst,  new  emerge, 
Lash'd  from  the  foam  of  ages;   while  the  Graves 
Of  Empires  heave  but  like  some  passing,  waves. 

ILtfe.  —  Steele. 
'THERE  is  nothing  which  must  end,  to  be  valued  for  its  con- 
tinuance. If  hours,  days,  months,  and  years  pass  away,  it  is 
no  matter  what  hour,  what  day,  what  month,  or  what  year  we  die. 
The  applause  of  a  good  Actor  is  due  to  him  at  whatever  scene  of 
the  play  he  makes  his  exit.  It  is  thus  in  the  Life  of  a  man  of 
sense ;  a  short  life  is  sufficient  to  manifest  himself  a  man  of  Ho- 
nour and  Virtue ;  when  he  ceases  to  be  such,  he  has  lived  too 
long;  and  while  he  is  such,  it  is  of  no  consequence  to  him  how 
long  he  shall  be  so,  provided  he  is  so  to  his  life's  end. 


270  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

%iU.—  Cowleij. 
THERE  is  no  fooling  with  Life,  when  it  is  once  turned  beyond 
forty ;  the  seeking  of  a  Fortune  then  is  but  a  desperate  after- 
game :  it  is  a  hundred  to  one  if  a  man  fling  two  sixes,  and  recover 
all :  especially  if  his  hand  be  no  luckier  than  mine. 

Utfe*—  Beattie. 
AH!  who  can  tell  how  hard  it  is  to  climb 

The  steep  where  Fame's  proud  temple  shines  afar; 
Ah  !  who  can  tell  how  many  a  Soul  sublime 
Has  felt  the  influence  of  malignant  star, 
And  waged  with  Fortune  an  eternal  War; 
Check'd  by  the  scoff  of  Pride,  by  Envy's  frown, 

And  Poverty's  unconquerable  bar, 
In  Life's  low  vale  remote  has  pined  alone, 
Then  dropt  into  the  grave,  unpitied  and  unknown ! 

It  tf0,  —  Shakspeare. 
So  we'll  live, 
And  pray,  and  sing,  and  tell  old  tales,  and  laugh 
At  gilded  butterflies;  and  hear  poor  rogues 
Talk  of  Court-news,  and  we'll  talk  with  them  too ; 
Who  loses  and  who  wins;  who's  in,  who's  out; 
And  take  upon  us  the  mystery  of  things, 
As  if  we  were  God's  spies  :  And  we'll  wear  out, 
In  a  wall'd  prison,  packs  and  sets  of  great  ones, 
That  ebb  and  flow  by  th'  Moon. 

IliU.  — Steele. 
TT  is  not  perhaps  much  thought  of,  but  it  is  certainly  a  very  im- 
portant lesson,  to  learn  how  to  enjoy  ordinary  Life,  and  to  be 
able  to  relish  your  being  without  the  transport  of  some  Passion,  or 
gratification  of  some  Appetite.  For  want  of  this  capacity,  the 
world  is  filled  with  whetters,  tipplers,  cutters,  sippers,  and  all  the 
numerous  train  of  those  who,  for  want  of  thinking,  are  forced  to  be 
ever  exercising  their  feeling  or  tasting. 

ILife.  —  Cotton. 

T  IFE  is  the  jailer  of  the  soul  in  this  filthy  prison,  and  its  only 
deliverer  is  Death :  what  we  call  Life  is  a  journey  to  Death, 
and  what  we  call  Death  is  a  passport  to  Life.  True  wisdom  thanks 
Death  for  what  he  takes,  and  still  more  for  what  he  brings.  Let 
us  then,  like  sentinels,  be  ready  because  we  are  uncertain,  and  calm 
because  we  are  prepared.  There  is  nothing  formidable  about  Death 
but  the  consequences  of  it,  and  these  we  ourselves  can  regulate  and 
control.  The  shortest  Life  is  long  enough  if  it  lead  to  a  better,  and 
the  longest  Life  is  too  short  if  it  do  not. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  271 

Htfe.  —  Byron. 

A  LAS  !  such  is  our  Nature  !  all  but  aim 

At  the  same  end  bj  pathways  not  the  same ; 
Our  means,  our  Birth,  our  nation,  and  our  name, 
Our  fortune,  temper,  even  our  outward  frame, 
Are  far  more  potent  o'er  our  yielding  clay 
Than  aught  we  know  beyond  our  little  day. 

Utf e.  _  Sir  W.  Temple. 
TITHEN  all  is  done,  Human  Life  is,  at  the  greatest  and  best,  but 
like  a  froward  child,  that  must  be  played  with,  and  humoured 
a  little  to  keep  it  quiet,  till  it  falls  asleep,  and  then  the  Care  is 
over. 

%\it.— Byron. 
T  OVE'S  the  first  net  which  spreads  its  deadly  mesh ; 

Ambition,  Avarice,  Vengeance,  Glory,  glue 
The  glittering  lime-twigs  of  our  latter  days, 
Where  still  we  flutter  on  for  peace  or  Praise. 

ILtfe,  —  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 
VOUTH  will  never  live  to  Age,  without  they  keep  themselves 
in  breath  with  exercise,  and  in  heart  with  joy  fulness.  Too 
much  thinking  doth  consume  the  spirits :  and  oft  it  falls  out,  that 
while  one  thinks  too  much  of  doing,  he  leaves  to  do  the  effect  of 
his  thinking. 

ILHt.  —  Sir  W.  Temple. 
\1TE  bring  into  the  world  with  us  a  poor,  needy,  uncertain  Life, 
short  at  the  longest,  and  unquiet  at  the  best :  all  the  imagi- 
nations of  the  witty  and  the  wise  have  been  perpetually  busied  to 
find  out  the  ways  how  to  revive  it  with  Pleasures,  or  relieve  it 
with  Diversions ;  how  to  compose  it  with  Ease,  and  settle  it  with 
Safety.  To  some  of  these  ends  have  been  employed  the  institu- 
tions of  Lawgivers,  the  reasonings  of  Philosophers,  the  inventions 
of  Poets,  the  pains  of  labouring,  and  the  extravagances  of  volup- 
tuous men.  All  the  world  is  perpetually  at  work  about  nothing 
else,  but  only  that  our  poor  mortal  Lives  should  pass  the  easier  and 
happier  for  that  little  time  we  possess  them,  or  else  end  the  better 
when  we  lose  them. 

ILiiZ.—Dryden. 
CINCE  every  man  who  lives  is  born  to  die, 

And  none  can  boast  sincere  Felicity, 
With  equal  mind  what  happens  let  us  bear, 
Nor  joy  nor  grieve  too  much  for  things  beyond  our  care. 
Like  pilgrims  to  the  appointed  place  we  tend ; 
The  World's  an  inn,  and  Death  the  journey's  end 

Y 


272  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

2Ltfe.  —  Young. 
The  present  moment,  like  a  wife,  we  shun, 
And  ne'er  enjoy,  because  it  is  our  own. 

IliU.— Campbell 
QOUNT  o'er  the  Joys  thine  hours  have  seen, 

Count  o'er  thy  days  from  Anguish  free, 
And  know,  whatever  thou  hast  been, 
'Tis  something  better  not  to  be. 

ILlU.  — Prior. 
TyB  Happiness  pursue  ;  we  fly  from  pain  ; 

Yet  the  pursuit,  and  yet  the  flight  is  vain : 
And,  while  poor  Nature  labours  to  be  blest, 
By  day  with  Pleasure,  and  by  night  with  rest, 
Some  stronger  power  eludes  our  sickly  will, 
Dashing  our  rising  Hopes  with  certain  ill ; 
And  makes  us,  with  reflective  trouble,  see 
That  all  destined,  which  we  fancy  free. 

lltfe,  —  Dry  den. 
T>UT  ah  !  how  insincere  are  all  our  Joys ! 

Which,  sent  from  Heaven,  like  lightning  make  no  stay; 
Their  palling  taste  the  Journey's  length  destroys, 
Or  Grief  sent  post  o'ertakes  them  on  the  way. 

iLiU.  —  Pope. 
Is  that  a  Birth-day  ?  'tis,  alas ;  too  clear, 
;Tis  but  the  fun'ral  of  the  former  year. 

ILtft*  — La  Rochefoucauld. 
rrHERE  happen  sometimes  accidents  in  Life  from  which  it  re- 
quires a  degree  of  madness  to  extricate  ourselves  well. 

fttftf.  —  Spenser. 
T5TJT  what  on  earth  can  long  abide  in  state  ? 

Or  who  can  him  assure  of  happy  day  ? 
Sith  morning  fair  may  bring  foul  evening  late, 
And  least  mishap  the  most  bless  alter  may  ? 
For  thousand  perils  lie  in  close  await 
About  us  daily,  to  work  our  decay, 
That  none,  except  a  god,  or  God  him  guide, 
May  them  avoid,  or  Remedy  provide. 

Htfe Steele. 

ITIE  date  of  human  Life  is  too  short  to  recompense  the  cares 
which  attend  the  most  private  condition  :  therefore  it  is  that 
our  Souls  are  made,  as  it  were,  too  big  for  it ;  and  extend  them- 
selves in  the  prospect  of  a  longer  Existence. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  273 

Etfe.—  Colton. 

COCIETY  is  a  sphere  that  demands  all  our  Energies,  and  de- 
serves all  that  it  demands.  He  therefore  that  retires  to  cells 
and  to  caverns,  to  Stripes  and  to  Famine,  to  court  a  more  arduous 
conflict,  and  to  win  a  richer  Crown,  is  doubly  deceived  ;  the  conflict 
is  less,  the  reward  is  nothing.  He  may  indeed  win  a  race,  if  he 
can  be  admitted  to  have  done  so  who  had  no  Competitors,  because 
he  chose  to  run  alone ;  but  he  will  be  entitled  to  no  Prize,  because 
he  ran  out  of  the  course. 


WH/ 


Htf0.  —  Spenser. 
[EN  I  beheld  this  fickle,  trustless  state 
Of  vain  world's  glory,  flitting  to  and  fro, 
And  mortal  men  toss'd  by  troublous  Fate, 
In  restless  seas  of  Wretchedness  and  Woo, 
I  wish  I  might  this  weary  Life  forego, 
And  shortly  turn  unto  my  happy  rest, 

Where  my  free  Spirit  might  not  any  more 
Be  vex'd  with  sights  that  do  her  peace  molest. 

ILtfe.  —  Young. 
Like  some  fair  hum'rists,  Life  is  most  enjoy'd, 
When  courted  least;  most  worth,  when  disesteem'd. 

TLiU.  —  Pope. 
T  OYE,  Hope,  and  Joy,  fair  Pleasure's  smiling  train; 

Hate,  Fear,  and  Grief,  the  family  of  Pain  ; 
These,  mixt  with  Art,  and  to  due  bounds  confined, 
Make  and  maintain  the  balance  of  the  Mind ; 
The  lights  and  shades,  whose  well-accorded  strife 
Gives  all  the  strength  and  colour  of  our  Life. 

ILtfe Byron. 

0  LOVE  !  0  Glory  !  what  are  ye  ?  who  fly 

Around  us  ever,  rarely  to  alight : 
There's  not  a  Meteor  in  the  polar  Sky 

Of  such  transcendent  and  more  fleeting  flight. 
Chill,  and  chain'd  to  cold  earth,  we  lift  on  high 

Our  eyes  in  search  of  either  lovely  light; 
A  thousand  and  a  thousand  colours  they 
Assume,  then. leave  us  on  our  freezing  way 

iltfe.  —  Shakspeare. 
The  time  of  Life  is  short; 
To  spend  that  shortness  basely,  were  too  long, 
If  Life  did  ride  upon  a  dial's  point, 
Stili  ending  at  the  arrival  of  an  hour. 

18 


274  1  L  I  r  s  TR  A  TIO  N S    OF    TR  D  T  II ; 

%L\U.  —  Shakspeare. 
"\TOUK  worm  is  your  only  Emperor  for  diet;  we  fat  all  creatures 
else,  to  fat  us;  and  we  fat  ourselves  for  Maggots ;  your  fat 
King,  and  your  lean  Beggar,  is  but  variable  service  ;  two  dishes, 
but  to  one  table  ;  that's  the  end.  A  man  may  fish  with  the  worm 
that  hath  eat  of  a  King  :  aud  eat  of  the  fish  that  hath  fed  of  that 
Worm. 

UtfC  —  Byron. 
"VyE  wither  from  our  youth,  we  gasp  away — 

Sick — sick  ;  tmfound  the  boon — unslaked  the  thirst, 
Though  to  the  last,  in  verge  of  our  decay, 

Some  Phantom  lures,  such  as  we  thought  at  first — 
But  all  too  late. — so  we  are  doubly  curst. 
Love,  Fame,  Ambition,  Avarice — 'tis  the  same, 
Each  idle — aud  all  ill — and  none  the  worst — 
For  all  are  meteors  with  a  different  name, 
And  Death  the  sable  smoke  where  vanishes  the  Flame. 

IliU.  —  Bi/ron. 
\yELL — well,  the  world  must  turn  upon  its  axis, 
And  all  mankind  turn  with  it,  heads  or  tails, 
And  live  and  die,  make  love  and  pay  our  taxes, 

And  as  the  veering  wind  shifts,  shift  our  sails; 
The  King  commands  us,  and  the  Doctor  quacks  us, 

The  Priest  instructs,  and  so  our  life  exhales; 
A  little  Breath,  Love,  Wine,  Ambition,  Fame, 
Fighting,  Devotion,  Dust, — perhaps  a  Name. 

iltfe.—  Prior. 
Thus  we  act ;  and  thus  we  are, 
Or  toss'd  by  Hope,  or  sunk  by  Care. 
With  endless  pain  this  man  pursues 
What,  if  he  gained,  he  could  not  use  : 
And  t'other  fondly  hopes  to  see 
What  never  was,  nor  e'er  shall  be. 
We  err  by  use,  go  wrong  by  rules, 
In  gesture  grave,  in  action  fools: 
We  join  Hypocrisy  to  Pride, 
Doubling  the  faults  we  strive  to  hide. 

lUft.  —  MOton. 

J>ETTER  end  here  unborn.     Why  is  Life  given 

To  be  thus  wrested  from  us?  rather  why 
Obtruded  on  us  thus  ?  who  if  we  knew 
What  wo  receive,  would  either  not  accept 
Life  offer'd,  or  soon  beg  to  lay  it  down, 
Glad  to  be  so  dismiss'd  in  Peace. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND     OLD  271 

ILiU.  —  Spenser. 
A  ND  ye,  fond  men  !  on  Fortune's  wheel  that  ride, 

Or  in  aught  under  Heaven  repose  assurance, 
Be  it  Riches,  Beauty,  or  Honour's  pride, 

Be  sure  that  they  shall  have  no  long  endurance, 
But  ere  ye  be  aware  will  flit  away; 

For  naught  of  them  is  yours,  but  only  th'  usance 
Of  a  small  time,  which  none  ascertain  may. 

ILtfe.  —  Shakspeare. 
'THAT  time  of  year  thou  may'st  in  me  behold, 

When  yellow  leaves,  or  none,  or  few,  do  hang 
Upon  those  boughs  which  shake  against  the  cold, 

Bare  ruin'd  choirs,  where  late  the  sweet  birds  sang. 
In  me  thou  seest  the  twilight  of  such  day 

As  after  sunset  fadeth  in  the  west; 
Which  by  and  by  black  Night  doth  take  away, 

Death's  second  self,  that  seals  up  all  in  rest. 
In  me  thou  seest  the  glowing  of  such  fire, 

That  on  the  ashes  of  his  Youth  doth  lie ; 
As  the  death-bed  whereon  it  must  expire, 

Consumed  with  that  which  it  was  nourish'd  by. 

llife.  —  Touiifj. 
T\THY  all  this  toil  for  triumphs  of  an  hour? 

What  tho'  we  wade  in  Wealth,  or  soar  in  Fame '( 
Earth's  highest  station  ends  in  "  Here  he  lies  :" 
And  "Dust  to  dust"  concludes  her  noblest  song. 

ILtfe.  —  Milton. 
Nor  love  thy  Life,  nor  hate ;  but  whilst  thou  livest 
Live  well ;   how  long,  how  short,  permit  to  Heaven. 

Utfe.—  Young. 
There's  not  a  day,  but,  to  the  Man  of  Thought, 
Betrays  some  secret,  that  throws  new  reproach 
On  Life,  and  makes  him  sick  of  seeing  more. 

ILtfc.  —  Young. 
JpRE  man  has  measured  half  his  weary  Stage, 

His  luxuries  have  left  him  no  reserve, 
No  maiden  relishes,  no  unbroach'd  delights; 
On  cold-served  repetitions  he  subsists, 
And  in  the  tasteless  present  chews  the  past; 
Disgusted  chews,  and  scarce  can  swallow  down. 
Like  lavish  ancestors,  his  earlier  years 
Have  disinherited  his  future  Hours, 
Which  starve  on  orts,  and  glean  their  former  field. 

v2 


276         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

ILtfC. — Dry  den. 
"Y^HEN  I  consider  Life,  'tis  all  a  cheat; 

Yet,  fool'd  with  Hope  men  favour  the  deceit* 
Trust  on,  and  think  to-morrow  will  repay  ; 
To-morrow's  falser  than  the  former  day; 
Lies  worse,  and,  while  it  says,  we  shall  be  blest, 
With  some  new  Joys,  cuts  off  what  we  possest. 
Strange  cozenage  !  None  would  live  past  years  again, 
Yet  all  hope  Pleasure  in  what  yet  remain ; 
And,  from  the  dregs  of  life,  think  to  receive, 
What  the  first  sprightly  running  could  not  give. 
I'm  tired  with  waiting  for  this  chemic  Gold, 
Which  fools  us  young,  and  beggars  us  when  old. 

Htft.  —  Byron. 

/^j-RIEF  should  be  the  instructor  of  the  wise  ; 

Sorrow  is  Knowledge  :  they  who  know  the  most 
Must  mourn  the  deepest  o'er  the  fatal  Truth, 
The  Tree  of  Knowledge  is  not  that  of  Life. 

Htfe»  —  Burns. 
f}  LIFE  !  how  pleasant  is  thy  morning, 

Young  Fancy's  rays  the  hills  adorning  ! 
Cold-pausing  Caution's  lesson  scorning, 

We  frisk  away, 
uike  school-boys,  at  th'  expected  warning, 

To  joy  and  play. 
We  wander  there,  we  wander  here, 
We  eye  the  Rose  upon  the  brier, 
Unmindful  that  the  Thorn  is  near, 

Among  the  leaves; 
And  though  the  puny  wound  appear, 

Short  while  it  grieves. 

ILtf£.  —  Shakspeare. 
There's  nothing  in  this  World  can  make  me  joy  : 
Life  is  as  tedious  as  a  twice-told  Tale 
Vexing  the  dull  ear  of  a  drowsy  man. 

Htfe.  — Young. 
T  IFE'S  little  stage  is  a  small  eminence, 

Inch-high  the  grave  above  :  that  home  of  man, 
Where  dwells  the  multitude  :  we  gaze  around  ; 
We  read  their  Monuments;   we  sigh;  and  while 
We  sigh,  we  sink  ;  and  are  what  we  deplored; 
Lamenting    ^r  lamented,  all  our  lot  ! 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND   OLD. 

Irtfe.  —  Thomson. 

"pVEN  so  luxurious  men,  unheeding,  pass 
An  idle  Summer-life  in  Fortune's  shine, 
A  season's  glitter  !     Thus  they  flutter  on 
From  toy  to  toy,  from  Vanity  to  Vice; 
Till,  blown  away  by  Death,  Oblivion  comes 
Behind,  and  strikes  them  from  the  Book  of  Life. 

ILtfe.  —  Young. 
TTOW  must  a  spirit,  late  escaped  from  Earth, 

The  truth  of  things  new-blazing  in  his  eye, 
Look  back,  astonish'd,  on  the  ways  of  Men, 
Whose  Lives'  whole  drift  is  to  forget  their  graves  ! 

ILtf^.  —  Spenser. 
(")H,  vain  world's  'glory,  and  unsteadfast  state, 

Of  all  that  lives  on  face  of  sinful  Earth  ! 
Which  from  their  first  until  their  utmost  date 
Taste  no  one  hour  of  Happiness  or  Mirth, 
But  like  as  at  the  ingate  of  their  birth, 
They  crying  creep  out  of  their  mother's  womb, 
So  wailing  back  go  to  their  woeful  Tomb. 

ILlU.  —  Bt/ron. 
\\TE  are  fools  of  Time  and  Terror  :  days 

Steal  on  us  and  steal  from  us  ;  yet  we  live, 
Loathing  our  Life,  aud  dreading  still  to  die. 
In  all  the  days  of  this  detested  yoke — 
This  vital  weight  upon  the  struggling  Heart, 
Which  sinks  with  sorrow,  or  beats  quick  with  pain, 
Or  joy  that  ends  in  Agony  or  faintness — 
In  all  the  days  of  past  and  future,  for 
In  Life  there  is  no  present,  we  can  number 
How  few,  how  less  than  few — wherein  the  soul 
Forbears  to  pant  for  Death,  and  yet  draws  back 
As  from  a  stream  in  winter,  though  the  chill 
Be  but  a  moment's. 

ILtff,  —  Spenser. 

OH,  why  doe  wretched  men  so  much  desire 
To  draw  their  Dayes  unto  the  utmost  date, 

And  doe  not  rather  wish  them  soone  expire, 
Knowing  the  Miserie  of  their  estate, 
And  thousand  perills  which  them  still  awate, 

Tossing  them  like  a  boate  amid  the  mayne, 

That  every  houre  they  knocke  at  Deathe's  gate  ? 

And  he  that  happie  seemes  and  leaste  in  payne, 

Yet  is  as  nigh  his  End  as  he  that  most  doth  playne 


278  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Htfe.  —  Shakspeare. 
'J'O-MORROW,  and  to-morrow,  and  to-morrow, 

Creeps  in  this  petty  pace  from  day  to  day, 
To  the  last  syllable  of  recorded  Time  : 
And  all  our  yesterdays  have  lighted  fools 
The  way  to  dusty  Death.     Out,  out,  brief  candle ! 
Life's  but  a  walking  shadow ;  a  poor  player, 
That  struts  and  frets  his  hour  upon  the  stage, 
And  then  is  heard  no  more  :  it  is  a  Tale 
Told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury, 
Signifying  nothing. 

ILtftf,  — Spenser. 
A  FTER  long  storms  and  tempests  overblowne, 
The  Suune  at  length  his  joyous  face  doth  cleare 

50  when  as  Fortune  all  her  spight  hath  showne, 
Some  blissful  hours  at  last  must  needes  appeare ; 
Else  should  afflicted  wights  ofttimes  despeire. 

ILtftf.  —  Shakspeare. 
Love  all,  trust  a  few, 
Do  wrong  to  none ;  be  able  for  thine  Enemy 
Rather  in  power,  than  use ;  and  keep  thy  Friend 
Under  thy  own  life's  key ;   be  check'd  for  Silence, 
But  never  tax'd  for  Speech. 

Etfe.  —  Young. 

T'HE  world's  infectious;  few  bring  back  at  eve 

Immaculate,  the  Manners  of  the  morn. 
Something  we  thought,  is  blotted ;  we  resolved, 
Is  shaken ;  we  renounced,  returns  again. 

Utfe.  —  Thomson. 
T'HE  human  race  are  sons  of  Sorrow  born ; 

And  each  must  have  his  portion.     Vulgar  minds 
Refuse,  or  crouch  beneath  their  load ;  the  Brave 
Bear  theirs  without  repining. 

?itfe,  —  Spenser. 

51  ITCH  is  the  weaknesse  of  all  mortall  Hope ; 

So  fickle  is  the  state  of  earthly  things ; 

That  ere  they  come  unto  their  aymed  scope, 
They  fall  too  short  of  our  fraile  reckonings, 
And  bring  us  bale  and  bitter  sorrowings, 

Instead  of  Comfort  which  we  should  embrace  : 
This  is  the  state  of  Keasars  and  of  Kings ! 

Let  none,  therefore,  that  is  in  meaner  place, 

Too  greatly  grieve  at  his  unlucky  case  ! 


OK,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  279 

iLtfe.—  Cowper. 
A  SK  what  is  Human  Life — the  Sage  replies, 
With  disappointment  low'ring  in  his  eyes, 
A  painful  Passage  o'er  a  restless  flood, 
A  vain  Pursuit  of  fugitive  false  good, 
A  sense  of  fancied  Bliss  and  heartfelt  care, 
Closing  at  last  in  Darkness  and  despair. 

ILlfe.  — Keats. 
"POUR  seasons  fill  the  measure  of  the  year  : 

There  are  four  seasons  in  the  Mind  of  man  * 
He  has  his  lusty  Spring,  when  fancy  clear 

Takes  in  all  beauty  with  an  easy  span  : 
He  has  his  Summer,  when  luxuriously 

Spring's  honey'd  cud  of  youthful  thought  he  lovep 
To  ruminate,  and  by  such  dreaming  high 

Is  nearest  unto  Heaven  :  quiet  coves 
His  soul  hath  in  its  Autumn,  when  his  wings 

He  furleth  close  j  contented  so  to  look 
On  mists  in  Idleness — to  let  fair  things 

Pass  by  unheeded  as  a  threshold  brook. 
He  has  his  Winter  too  of  pale  misfeature, 
Or  else  he  would  forego  his  mortal  nature. 

Cfje  ItUtB'S  HifZ.  —  Shakspeare.  ' 
'THE  single  and  peculiar  Life  is  bound, 

With  all  the  strength  and  armour  of  the  Min'i, 
To  keep  itself  from  'noyance  ;  but  much  more 
That  Spirit,  upon  whose  weal  depend  and  rest 
The  lives  of  many.     The  cease  of  Majesty 
Dies  not  alone ;  but,  like  a  gulf,  doth  draw 
What's  near  it,  with  it :  it  is  a  massy  wheel, 
Fix'd  on  the  summit  of  the  highest  mount, 
To  whose  huge  spokes  ten  thousand  lesser  things 
Are  mortised  and  adjoin'd;  which,  when  it  falls, 
Each  small  annexment,  petty  consequence, 
Attends  the  boist'rous  ruin.     Never  alone 
Did  the  King  sigh,  but  with  a  general  Groan 

£tgf)t.  —  Milton. 

TTAIL  holy  Light,  offspring  of  Heaven  first  born, 

Or  of  the  eternal  co-eternal  beam, 
May  I  express  thee  unblamed  ?  since  God  is  light, 
And  never  but  in  unapproached  light, 
Dwelt  from  Eternity,  dwell  then  in  thee, 
Bright  effluence  of  bright  essence  increate. 


280  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

IUjjf)k  —  Milton. 

Before  the  Sun, 
Before  the  Heavens  thou  wert,  and  at  the  voice 
Of  God,  as  with  a  mantle  didst  invest 
The  rising  world  of  Waters  dark  and  deep 
Won  from  the  void  and  formless  Infinite. 

(EeleSttal  Etgf)t.—  Shakspeare. 
Angels  are  bright  still,  though  the  brightest  fell : 
Though  all  things  foul  would  wear  the  brows  of  Grace, 
Yet  Grace  must  still  look  so. 

listening.  —  Coiton. 

"Y^ERL  we  as  eloquent  as  Angels,  yet  should   we  please  some 
Men,  some  Women,  and  some  Children  much  more  by  listen- 
ing than  by  talking. 

Utteratitte.— Anon. 

T  ITERARY  Dissipation  is  no  less  destructive  of  sympathy  with 
the  living  world,  than  sensual  Dissipation.  Mere  Intellect  is 
as  hard-hearted  and  as  heart-hardening  as  mere  Sense  ;  and  the 
union  of  the  two,  when  uncontrolled  by  the  Conscience,  and  with- 
out the  softening,  purifying  influences  of  the  moral  affections,  is 
all  that  is  requisite  to  produce  the  diabolical  ideal  of  our  Nature. 
Noi  iA  there  any  repugnance  in  either  to  coalesce  with  the  other : 
witness  lago,  Tiberius,  Borgia. 

Utter  ature. — Prescott. 

rrHE  triumphs  of  the  warrior  are  bounded  by  the  narrow  theatre 
of  his  own  age ;  but  those  of  a  Scott  or  a  Shakspeare  will  be  re- 
newed with  greater  and  greater  lustre  in  ages  yet  unborn,  when 
the  victorious  chieftain  shall  be  forgotten,  or  shall  live  only  in  the 
song  of  the  minstrel  and  the  page  of  the  chronicler. 

Utbmrj.—  Addison. 
T^HE  man  who  will  live  above  his  present  circumstances,  is  in  great 
danger  of  living  in  a  little  time  much  beneath  them. 

UtbhtguielL  —  Fuller. 
TTE  lives  long  that  lives  well;  and  Time  misspent,  is  not  lived, 
but  lost.     Besides,  God  is  better  than  his  promise  if  he  takes 
from  him  a  long  lease,  and  gives  him  a  Freehold  of  a  better  value. 

Utbtng  IttelL  —  Seneca. 

TT  is  the  bounty  of  Nature  that  we  live,  but  of  Philosophy  that 
we  live  well;  which  is,  in  truth,  a  greater  benefit   than  Life 
itself. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  281 

HOtrtHm.  —  Johnson. 

TTERE  Malice,  Rapine,  Accident,  conspire, 

And  now  a  Rabble  rages,  and  now  a  Fire ; 
Their  ambush  here  relentless  ruffians  lay, 
And  here  the  fell  Attorney  prowls  for  prey ; 
Here  falling  houses  thunder  on  your  head, 
And  here  a  female  Atheist  talks  you  dead. 

UotVtJOn.—  Byron. 
A    MIGHTY  Mass  of  Brick,  and  smoke,  and  shipping, 

Dirty  and  dusky,  but  as  wide  as  eye 
Could  reach,  with  here  and  there  a  sail  just  skipping 

In  sight,  then  lost  amidst  the  forestry 
Of  masts  ;  a  wilderness  of  Steeples  peeping 
On  tiptoe  through  their  sea-coal  canopy, 
A  huge  dun  Cupola,  like  a  foolscap  crown 
On  a  fool's  head — and  there  is  London  Town  ! 

3LontJ01t.—  Johnson. 
T  ONDON !  the  needy  Villain's  gen'ral  home, 
The  common  sewer  of  Paris  and  of  Rome; 
With  eager  Thirst,  by  folly  or  by  fate, 
Sucks  in  the  dregs  of  each  corrupted  State. 

IrMtgebttg.—  Cotton. 

T\T ERE  the  Life  of  man  prolonged,  he  would  become  such  a  pro- 
ficient in  villany,  that  it  would  be  necessary  again  to  drown  or 
to  burn  the  World.  Earth  would  become  a  Hell :  for  future  re- 
wards, when  put  off  to  a  great  distance,  would  cease  to  encourage, 
and  future  punishments  to  alarm. 

ILoofemg  uptoarto.  —  Coiton. 

"  OUR  thoughts/'  says  an  eloquent  divine,  "  like  the  waters  of 
the  sea,  when  exhaled  toward  Heaven,  will  lose  all  their 
bitterness  and  saltness,  and  sweeten  into  an  amiable  Humanity, 
until  they  descend  in  gentle  showers  of  love  and  kindness  upon  our 
fellow-men. " 

UfjquaCttD.  —  Fuller. 
I"  EARN  to  hold  thy  Tongue.     Five  Words  cost  Zacharias  forty 
Weeks'  Silence. 

EOOniaCttp.—  Fuller. 
THOU  may'st  esteem  a  Man  of  many  Words  and  many  Lies  much 
alike. 

?i.0be.  —  Shakspeare. 
She  is  so  conjunctive  to  my  life  and  Soul, 
That,  as  the  Star  moves  not  but  in  his  Sphere, 
I  could  not  but  by  her. 


2*2  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 


llobe SJidkspeare. 

OR,  that  persuasion  could  but  thus  convince  me. 

That  my  Integrity  and  Truth  to  you 
Might  be  affronted  with  the  match  and  weight 
Of  such  a  winnow'd  purity  in  Love  : 
How  were  I  then  up-lifted  !  but  alas, 
I  am  as  true  as  Truth's  simplicity, 
And  simpler  than  the  infancy  of  Truth. 

Uobe.  —  Slidkspeare. 
This  bud  of  Love,  by  summer's  ripening  breath, 
May  prove  a  beauteous  Flower,  when  next  we  meet. 

Uobe.  _  Campbell. 
TN  joyous  Youth,  what  soul  hath  never  known 

Thought,  feeling,  taste,  harmonious  to  its  own? 
Who  hath  not  paused  while  Beauty's  pensive  eye 
Ask'd  from  his  Heart  the  homage  of  a  sigh  ? 
Who  hath  not  own'd,  with  rapture-smitten  frame, 
The  power  of  Grace,  the  magic  of  a  Name  ? 

ftobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Q  BRAWLING  Love  !  0  loving  Hate! 

0  anything,  of  nothing  first  create  ! 
O  heavy  lightness  !  serious  Vanity  ! 
Mis-shapen  Chaos  of  well-seeming  forms  ! 
Feather  of  Lead,  bright  smoke,  cold  fire,  sick  Health ! 
Still-waking  Sleep,  that  is  not  what  it  is ! 

Uobe. — Moore. 
T  OVE  was  to  his  impassion'd  soul 
Not,  as  with  others,  a  mere  part 
Of  its  existence,  but  the  whole — 
The  very  Life  Breath  of  his  Heart ! 

Uobe.  — Byron. 

Instead  of  poppies,  Willows 
Waved  o'er  his  couch  ;  he  meditated,  fond 
Of  those  sweet  bitter  thoughts  which  banish  sleep, 
And  make  the  Worldling  sneer,  the  Youngling  weep. 

Uobe.  —  Spenser. 
So  Love  does  raine 
In  stoutest  minds,  and  maketh  monstrous  Warre : 

He  maketh  warre :  he  maketh  Peace  againe, 
And  yett  his  Peace  is  but  continuall  Jarre  : 
Oh  miserable  men  that  to  him  subject  arre  ! 


OR,     THINGS    NEW    AND     OLD.  283 

HO  be,  —  Mrs.  Tighe. 
/~\H  !  never  may  Suspicion's  gloomy  sky 

Chill  the  sweet  glow  of  fondly  trusting  Love ! 
Nor  ever  may  he  feel  the  scowling  eye 

Of  dark  Distrust  his  Confidence  reprove  ! 

In  pleasing  error  may  I  rather  rove, 
With  blind  reliance  on  the  hand  so  dear, 

Than  let  cold  Prudence  from  my  eyes  remove 
Those  sweet  delusions,  where  no  doubt  nor  fear, 
Nor  foul  Disloyalty,  nor  cruel  Change  appear. 

HO  be.  —  Shakspeare. 
She  loved  me  for  the  Dangers  I  had  pass'd  ; 
And  I  loved  her,  that  she  did  pity  them. 

Hobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
A  lover's  pinch, 
Which  hurts,  and  is  desired. 

Uobe.  —  Byron. 
Oh  !  I  envy  those 
Whose  Hearts  on  Hearts  as  faithful  can  repose, 
Who  never  feel  the  void — the  wandering  thought 
That  sighs  o'er  visions — such  as  mine  hath  wrought. 

Hobe.  — Sliakspeare. 
If  ever  thou  shalt  love, 
In  the  sweet  pangs  of  it  remember  me : 
For,  such  as  I  am,  all  true  Lovers  are  ; 
Unstaid  and  skittish  in  all  motions  else, 
Save,  in  the  constant  Image  of  the  creature 
That  is  beloved. 

ItObe.  —  Shakspeare. 
I  tell  thee,  I  am  mad 
In  Cressid's  love.     Thou  answer'st,  she  is  fair; 
Pour'st  in  the  open  ulcer  of  my  Heart 
Her  eyes,  her  hair,  her  cheek,  her  gait,  her  voice ; 
Handiest  in  thy  discourse — 0  that !  her  hand  ! 
(In  whose  comparison,  all  whites  are  Ink 
Writing  their  own  reproach)  to  whose  soft  seizure 
The  Cygnet's  down  is  harsh,  and  spirit  of  Sense 
Hard  as  the  palm  of  Ploughman. 

Hobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
If  he  be  not  one  that  truly  loves  you, 
That  errs  in  Ignorance,  and  not  in  cunning, 
I  have  no  judgment  in  an  Honest  face. 
Z 


284  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Eobe.  —  Mrs.  Tight. 
(~)H  \  "who  the  exquisite  delight  can  tell, 

The  joy  which  mutual  Confidence  imparts? 
Or  who  can  paint  the  charm  unspeakable 

Which  links  in  tender  bands  two  faithful  Hearts  ? 

In  vain  assail'd  by  Fortune's  envious  darts, 
Their  mitigated  woes  are  sweetly  shared, 

And  doubled  Joy  reluctantly  departs: 
Let  but  the  sympathizing  heart  be  spared, 
What  Sorrow  seems  not  light,  what  Peril  is  not  dared? 

ILtlbc,  —  Shdkspeare. 
T>OLDNESS  comes  to  me  now,  and  brings  me  Heart: 

Prince  Troilus,  I  have  loved  you  night  and  day, 
For  many  weary  months. 
Why  was  my  Cressid  then  so  hard  to  win  ? 
Hard  to  seem  won  :  but  I  was  won,  my  lord, 
With  the  first  glance  that  ever — pardon  me — ■ 
If  I  confess  much,  you  will  play  the  Tyrant : 
I  love  you  now;  but  not  till  now,  so  much 
But  I  might  master  it — in  faith,  I  lie — 
My  thoughts  were,  like  unbridled  children,  grown 
Too  headstrong  for  their  Mother;  see,  we  fools  ! 
Why  have  I  blabb'd  ?  who  shall  be  true  to  us, 
When  we  are  so  unsecret  to  ourselves  ? 
But  though  I  loved  you  well,  I  woo'd  you  not ; 
And  yet,  good  faith,  I  wish'd  myself  a  Man  : 
Or  that  We  women  had  men's  privilege, 
Of  speaking  first.     Sweet,  bid  me  hold  my  tongue ; 
For  in  this  rapture  I  shall  surely  speak 
The  thing  I  shall  repent ;  see,  see,  your  silence 
(Cunning  in  dumbness)  from  my  Weakness  draws 
My  very  Soul  of  Counsel. 

Hofce*—  Dry&en. 

The  power  of  Love, 
In  Earth,  and  Seas,  and  Air,  and  Heaven  above, 
Rules,  unresisted,  with  an  awful  nod; 
By  daily  miracles  declared  a  god : 
He  blinds  the  Wise,  gives  eyesight  to  the  blind ; 
And  moulds  and  stamps  anew  the  Lover's  mind. 

Efjbe.  —  Sir  Samuel  E.  Brydges. 
f\  Love  !  requited  Love,  how  fine  thy  thrills, 

That  shake  the  trembling  flame  with  ecstasy; 
Even  every  vein  celestial  pleasure  fills, 
And  inexpressive  Bliss  is  in  each  sigh. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  28; 

ilobp.  — Shakspeare. 
To  be 
In  love,  where  Scorn  is  bought  with  Groans;  coy  Looks, 
With  heart-sore  Sighs ;  one  fading  moment's  Mirth; 
With  twenty  watchful,  weary,  tedious  nights : 
If  haply  won,  perhaps,  a  hapless  gain; 
If  lost,  why  then  a  grievous  labour  won; 
However,  but  a.  Folly  bought  with  Wit, 
Or  else  a  Wit  by  Folly  vanquished. 

HO  be.  —  Shahspeare. 

Why,  what  would  you  ? 
Make  me  a  Willow  cabin  at  your  gate, 
And  call  upon  my  Soul  within  the  house; 
Write  loyal  cantos  of  contemned  Love, 
And  sing  them  loud  even  in  the  dead  of  night; 
Holla  your  name  to  the  reverberate  Hills, 
And  make  the  babbling  gossip  of  the  air 
Cry  out,  Olivia  !  Oh,  you  should  not  rest 
Between  the  elements  of  Air  and  Earth, 
But  you  should  pity  me. 

HOue.  —  Shahspeare. 
"RUT  Love,  first  learned  in  a  lady's  Eyes, 
Lives  not  alone  immured  in  the  Brain; 
But  with  the  motion  of  all  elements, 
Courses  as  swift  as  Thought  in  every  power ; 
And  gives  to  every  power  a  double  power, 
Above  their  functions  and  their  offices. 
It  adds  a  precious  seeing  to  the  Eye  : 
A  Lover's  Eyes  will  gaze  an  Eagle  blind  ! 
A  Lover's  Ear  will  hear  the  lowest  sound, 
When  the  suspicious  head  of  thrift  is  stopt. 
Love's  Feeling  is  more  soft  and  sensible, 
Than  are  the  tender  horns  of  cockled  snails. 
Love's  Tongue  proves  dainty  Bacchus  gross  in  Taste ; 
For  Savour,  is  not  Love  a  Hercules? 
Still  climbing  trees  in  the  Hesperides. 
Subtle  as  Sphinx ;  as  sweet  and  musical 
As  bright  Apollo's  lute,  strung  with  his  hair : 
And  when  Love  speaks  the  voice  of  all  the  Gods, 
Mark,  Heaven  drowsie  with  the  harmony ! 
Never  durst  Poet  touch  a  pen  to  write, 
Until  his  ink  were  temper'd  with  Love's  sighs; 
Oh,  then  his  lines  would  ravish  savage  ears, 
And  plant  in  Tyrants  mild  humility. 


•286  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 


Hebe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Alas,  that  Love,  whose  view  is  muffled  still, 
Should,  without  eyes,  see  pathways  to  his  Will ! 

E0be.--  Sir  A.  Hunt. 

"VyHAT  is  Love?  'tis  not  the  kiss 
Of  a  harlot  lip — the  Bliss 

That  doth  perish 

Even  while  we  cherish 
The  fleeting  Charm  :  and  what  so  fleet  as  this  ? 

He  is  bless'd  in  Love  alone, 

Who  loves  for  years,  and  loves  but  one. 

3Lobe*  —  Shakspeare. 
How  wayward  is  this  foolish  Love, 
That,  like  a  testy  babe,  will  scratch  the  nurse, 
And  presently,  all  humbled,  kiss  the  Rod  ? 

Uobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Our  separation  so  abides,  and  flies, 
That  thou,  residiug  here,  go'st  yet  with  me, 
And  I,  hence  fleeting,  here  remain  with  thee. 

?l0bC-  —  Campbell. 
C\  LOVE !  in  such  a  wilderness  as  this, 

Where  Transport  and  Security  entwine, 
Here  is  the  empire  of  thy  perfect  Bliss, 

And  here  thou  art  a  God  indeed  divine; 

Here  shall  no  forms  abridge,  no  hours  confine 
The  views,  the  walks,  that  boundless  Joy  inspire  ! 

Roll  on,  ye  days  of  raptured  influence,  shine ! 
Nor  blind  with  Ecstasy's  celestial  fire, 
Siall  Love  behold  the  spark  of  earth-born  Time  expire 

?Lobe.  —  Shakspeare. 

Oh,  for  a  Falconer's  voice, 
To  lure  this  tassel-gentle  back  again  ! 
Bondage  is  hoarse,  and  may  not  speak  aloud  ; 
Else  would  I  tear  the  cave  where  Echo  lies, 
And  make  her  airy  Tongue  more  hoarse  than  mine 
With  repetition  of  my  Romeo's  name. 

ILfjbe.  —  Shakspeare. 
TVrHAT !  keep  a  Week  away?  seven  Days  and  Nights? 
Eightscore  Eight  Hours  ?  and  Lovers'  absent  Hours, 
More  tedious  than  the  dial,  eightscore  times  ? 
Oh  weary  Reckoning  ! 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  287 


^LAS 


HO  be.  —  Shakspeare. 
So  holy  and  so  perfect  is  my  Love, 
And  I  in  such  a  poverty  of  Grace, 
That  I  shall  think  it  a  most  plenteous  crop 
To  glean  the  broken  ears  after  the  man 
That  the  main  Harvest  reaps :  loose  now  and  then 
A  scatter' d  Smile,  and  that  I'll  live  upon. 

3L0be.  —  Byron. 
!  the  Love  of  Women !  it  is  known 
To  be  a  lovely  and  a  fearful  thing ; 
For  all  of  theirs  upon  that  Die  is  thrown  : 

And  if  'tis  lost,  Life  has  no  more  to  bring 
To  them  but  mockeries  of  the  past  alone. 

?iOu0,  —  Shakspeare. 
F  DID  not  take  my  leave  of  him,  but  had 

Most  pretty  things  to  say:  ere  I  could  tell  him, 
How  I  would  think  on  him,  at  certain  Hours, 
Such  Thoughts,  and  such; 

Or  have  charged  him 
At  the  sixth  hour  of  Morn,  at  Noon,  at  Midnight, 
To  encounter  me  with  Orisons,  for  then 
I  am  in  Heaven  for  him;  or  ere  I  could 
Give  him  that  parting  Kiss,  which  I  had  set 
Betwixt  two  charming  words,  comes  in  my  Father, 
And,  like  the  tyrannous  breathing  of  the  north, 
Shakes  all  our  Buds  from  growing. 

HobC—  Shakspeare. 

While  injury  of  chance 
Puts  back  Leave-taking,  justles  roughly  by 
All  time  of  pause,  rudely  beguiles  our  Lips 
Of  all  rejoyndure,  forcibly  prevents 
Our  lock'd  Embraces,  strangles  our  dear  Vows, 
Even  in  the  birth  of  our  own  labouring  Breath. 
We  two,  that  with  so  many  thousand  Sighs 
Each  other  bought,  must  poorly  sell  ourselves 
With  the  rude  Brevity  and  Discharge  of  one. 
Injurious  Time  now,  with  a  robber's  haste, 
Crams  his  rich  thiev'ry  up,  he  knows  not  how. 
As  many  Farewells  as  be  stars  in  Heaven, 
With  distinct  breath  and  consign'd  Kisses  to  them, 
He  fumbles  up  all  in  one  loose  Adieu; 
And  scants  us  with  a  single  famish'd  Kiss, 
Distasted  with  the  salt  of  broken  Tears. 


288  IL  L  US  TR  A  TIO  XS    0  F   TR  UTTT; 

?lobe.  —  Spenser. 
For  Lovers'  Eyes  mere  sharply  sighted  be 
Thau  other  men's,  and  in  dear  Love's  delight 
See  more  than  any  other  Eyes  can  see. 

ILobe.— Moore. 

f)H  !  who,  that  has  ever  had  Rapture  complete, 

Would  ask  how  we  feel  it,  or  why  it  is  sweet; 
How  rays  are  confused,  or  how  particles  fly, 
Through  the  medium  refined  of  a  Glance  or  a  Sigh  ! 
Is  there  one,  who  but  once  would  not  rather  have  known  it? 
Than  written,  with  Harvey,  whole  Volumes  upon  it  ? 

?iobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
A  loss  of  her, 
That,  like  a  Jewel,  has  hung  twenty  years, 
About  his  neck,  yet  never  lost  her  Lustre. 

ltd  be.  —  Shakspeare. 
VOU  are  a  Lover;  borrow  Cupid's  wings, 

And  soar  with  them  above  a  common  bound.  .  .  . 
I  am  too  sore  empierced  with  his  Shaft, 
To  soar  with  his  light  feathers;  and  so  bound, 
I  cannot  bound  a  pitch  above  dull  Wo : 
Under  Love's  heavy  burden  do  I  sink. 

ILobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Love  goes  toward  Love,  as  school-boys  from  their  books; 
But  Love  from  Love,  toward  school  with  heavy  looks. 

2Lobe.  —  Spenser. 
No  lesse  was  she  in  secret  Hart  affected, 
But  that  she  masked  it  with  Modestie 
For  feare  she  should  of  Lightnesse  be  detected. 

Uobe.  —  Shakspeare. 

I  would  have  thee  gone ; 
And  yet  no  farther  than  a  wanton's  Bird, 
That  lets  it  hop  a  little  from  her  hand, 
Like  a  poor  Prisoner  in  his  twisted  gyves, 
And  with  a  silk  thread  plucks  it  back  again, 
So  loving-jealous  of  his  Liberty. 

ILobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
I  will  wind  thee  in  my  arms; 
So  doth  the  Woodbine,  the  sweet  Honey-suckle, 
Gently  entwist  the  Maple ;  Ivy  so 
Enrings  the  barky  fingers  of  the  Elm. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  289 

ilobe,  —  Shakspeare. 

Lovers  and  Madmen  have  such  seething  brains, 
Such  shaping  fantasies,  that  apprehend 
More  than  cool  Reason  ever  comprehends. 

Uobe,  —  Spenser. 
QHEE  greatly  gan  enamoured  to  wex, 

And  with  vain  thoughts  her  falsed  fancy  vex : 
Her  fickle  Hart  conceived  hasty  Fyre, 

Like  sparkes  of  Fire  that  fall  in  sclender  flex, 
That  shortly  brent  into  extreme  Desyre, 
And  ransackt  all  her  veines  with  Passion  entyre. 

ILobe,—  Moore. 

GHE  loves — but  knows  not  whom  she  loves, 

Nor  what  his  race,  nor  whence  he  came ; — 
Like  one  who  meets,  in  Indian  groves, 

Some  beauteous  Bird  without  a  name, 
Brought  by  the  last  ambrosial  Breeze, 
From  isles  in  th'  undiscover'd  seas, 
To  show  his  Plumage  for  a  day 
To  wondering  eyes,  and  wing  away  ! 

Uobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Now  by  the  jealous  queen  of  Heaven,  that  Kiss 
I  carried  from  thee,  dear;  my  true  Lip 
Hath  virgin' d  it  e'er  since. 

Hobc.  —  Spenser. 
CAD,  solemne,  sowre,  and  full  of  Fancies  fraile 
She  woxe,  yet  wist  she  nether  how  nor  why; 
She  wist  not  (silly  mayd)  what  she  did  aile, 
Yet  wist  she  was  not  well  at  ease  perdy, 
Yet  thought  it  was  not  Love  but  some  Melancholy. 

ILobe.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
Oh,  what  damn'd  Minutes  tells  he  o'er, 
Who  dotes,  yet  doubts;  suspects,  yet  strongly  loves! 

iUbe.  —  Byron. 
TT  was  such  pleasure  to  behold  him,  such 

Enlargement  of  Existence  to  partake 
Nature  with  him,  to  thrill  beneath  his  touch, 

To  watch  him  slumbering,  and  to  see  him  wake : 
To  live  with  him  for  ever  were  so  much ; 

But  then  the  thought  of  parting  made  her  quake ; 
He  was  her  own,  her  Ocean-treasure,  cast 
Like  a  rich  Wreck — her  First  love,  and  her  Last. 

19 


290  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 


Eobe.  —  Mrs.  Tiglie. 
~[JNHAPPY  Psyche  !  soon  the  latent  wound 

The  fading  Roses  of  her  Cheek  confess, 
Her  Eyes'  bright  Beams,  in  swimming  sorrows  drown'd, 

Sparkle  no  more  with  Life  and  Happiness, 

Her  parent's  fond  Heart  to  bless; 
She  shuns  adoring  crowds,  and  seeks  to  hide 

The  pining  sorrows  which  her  Soul  oppress, 
Till  to  her  mother's  tears  no  more  denied, 
The  secret  Grief  she  owns,  for  which  she  lingering  sigh'd. 

ILobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
All  thy  vexations 
Were  but  my  trials  of  thy  Love,  and  thou 
Hast  strangely  stood  the  Test. 

HO  be.  —  Spenser. 
THE  rolling  Wheel,  that  runneth  often  round, 
The  hardest  Steel  in  tract  of  Time  doth  tear ; 
And  drizzling  Drops,  that  often  do  redound, 

Firmest  Flint  doth  in  continuance  wear : 

Yet  cannot  I,  with  many  a  dropping  tear, 
And  long  entreaty,  soften  her  hard  Heart, 

That  she  will  once  vouchsafe  my  plaint  to  hear, 
Or  look  with  pity  on  my  painful  Smart : 
But  when  I  plead,  she  bids  me  play  my  part; 

And  when  I  weep,  she  says  Tears  are  but  water ; 
And  when  I  sigh,  she  says  I  know  the  art; 

And  when  I  wail,  she  turns  herself  to  Laughter: 
So  do  I  weep  and  wail,  and  plead  in  vain, 
Whiles  she  as  Steel  and  Flint  doth  still  remain. 

Udbe.  —  Shakspeare. 
TAKE,  oh,  take  those  Lips  away, 
That  so  sweetly  were  forsworn; 
And  those  Eyes,  the  break  of  day, 

Lights  that  do  mislead  the  Morn ; 
But  my  Kisses  bring  again, 
Seals  of  Love,  but  seal'd  in  vain. 

IlO  be.  —  Shakspeare. 

Mine  Eyes 
Were  not  in  fault,  for  she  was  beautiful; 
Mine  Ears,  that  heard  her  flattery;  nor  my  Heart, 
That  thought  her  like  her  Seeming :  it  had  been  vicious. 
To  have  mistrusted  her. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  291 

?Lobe*  —  Shakspeare. 
How  all  the  other  passions  fleet  to  air, 
As  doubtful  Thoughts,  and  rash-embraced  Despair, 
And  shudd'ring  Fear,  and  green-eyed  Jealousie. 

0  Love,  be  moderate,  allay  thy  ecstacie ; 
In  measure  rein  thy  joy,  scant  this  excess; 

1  feel  too  much  thy  blessing,  make  it  less, 
For  fear  I  surfeit. 

Itobe.  —  Byron. 
TTOW  beautiful  she  look'd  !  her  conscious  Heart 
Grlow'd  in  her  Cheek,  and  yet  she  felt  no  wrong. 

0  Love,  how  perfect  is  thy  mystic  Art, 
Strengthening  the  Weak,  and  trampling  on  the  Strong ! 

How  self-deceitful  is  the  sagest  part 

Of  mortals  whom  thy  Lure  hath  led  along ! 

?iobf .  —  Shakspeare. 
'THAT  which  I  show,  Heaven  knows,  is  merely  Love 

Duty  and  zeal  to  your  unmatch'd  mind, 
Care  of  your  food  and  living :  and,  believe  it, 
For  any  benefit  that  points  to  me, 
Either  in  Hope,  or  present,  I'd  exchange 
For  this  one  wish,  that  you  had  Power  and  Wealth, 
To  requite  me,  by  making  rich  yourself. 

2L0be.  —  Byron. 
THE  World  was  not  for  them,  nor  the  World's  art 

For  beings  passionate  as  Sappho's  song; 
Love  was  born  with  them,  in  them,  so  intense, 
It  was  their  very  Spirit — not  a  sense. 

ILobe.  —  Moore. 
HPHE  world ! — ah,  Fanny  !  Love  must  shun 

The  path  where  many  rove ; 
One  Bosom  to  recline  upon, 
One  Heart  to  be  his  only-one, 

Are  quite  enough  for  Love  ! 

Urjbe*  —  Shakspeare. 

1  GROW  to  you,  and  our  Parting  is  a  tortured  body. 

Ufjbe.  —  La  Bruyere. 
T  OVE  seizes  on  us  suddenly,  without  giving  warning,  and  our 
Disposition  or  our  Weakness  favours  the  Surprise;  one  Look, 
one  Glance  from  the  fair,  fixes  and  determines  us.  Friendship, 
on  the  contrary,  is  a  long  time  in  forming;  it  is  of  slow  growth, 
through  many  trials  and  months  of  Familiarity. 


292  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

HO  be.  —  SJiakspeare. 
Should  we  be  taking  Leave 
As  long  a  term  as  yet  we  have  to  live, 
The  Loathness  to  depart  would  grow. 

Il0  be.  —  SJiakspeare. 
"V\/"HAT  shall  I  do  to  win  my  Lord  again  ? 

Good  friend,  go  to  him ;  for,  by  this  light  of  Heaven, 
I  know  not  how  I  lost  him.     Here  I  kneel : 
If  e'er  my  will  did  trespass  'gainst  his  Love, 
Either  in  discourse  of  thought,  or  actual  deed; 
Or  that  mine  Eyes,  mine  Ears,  or  any  sense, 
Delighted  them  in  any  other  form ; 
Or  that  I  do  not  yet,  and  ever  did, 
And  ever  will, — though  he  do  shake  me  off 
To  beggarly  Divorcement, — love  him  dearly, 
Comfort  forswear  me ;  Unkindness  may  do  much ; 
And  his  Unkindness  may  defeat  my  Life, 
But  never  taint  my  Love. 

HO  be.  —  Byron. 
HTHEY  should  have  lived  together  deep  in  Woods, 

Unseen  as  sings  the  Nightingale ;  they  were 
Unfit  to  mix  in  these  thick  Solitudes 

Call'd  social,  where  all  vice  and  hatred  are ; 

How  lonely  every  freeborn  creature  broods ! 

The  sweetest  Song-birds  nestle  in  a  pair; 

The  Eagle  soars  alone :  the  Gull  and  Crow 

Flock  o'er  their  Carrion,  just  as  mortals  do. 

HO  be.  —  SJiakspeare. 
FRIENDSHIP  is  constant  in  all  other  things, 

Save  in  the  office  and  affairs  of  Love : 
Therefore,  all  hearts  in  Love  use  their  own  Tongues ; 
Let  every  Eye  negotiate  for  itself, 
And  trust  no  agent :  for  Beauty  is  a  witch, 
Against  whose  charms  Faith  melteth  into  Blood. 

Hobe.  —  SJiakspeare. 

Love  is  not  Love, 
When  it  is  mingled  with  Respects,  that  stand 
Aloof  from  the  entire  point. 

Hobe.—  Byron. 
/~)H  beautiful !  and  rare  as  beautiful ! 

But  theirs  was  Love  in  which  the  mind  delights 
To  lose  itself,  when  the  old  world  grows  dull, 
And  we  are  sick  of  its  hack  Sounds  and  Sights. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD.  293 

3Lt)be.  —  Shahspeare. 
A  MURd'rous  guilt  shows  not  itself  more  soon, 
Thans  Love  that  would  seem  hid ;  Love's  night  is  Noon. 

Hebe*  —  S/iakspeare. 
Sweet  Love,  changing  his  property, 
Turn  to  the  sourest  and  most  deadly  Hate. 

HO  be.  —  Moore. 
;rTWAS  his  own  Voice.     She  could  not  err, 

Throughout  the  breathiug  world's  extent 
There  was  but  one  such  Voice  for  her, 

So  kind,  so  soft,  so  eloquent; 
Oh  !  sooner  shall  the  Rose  of  May 

Mistake  her  own  sweet  Nightingale, 
And  to  some  meaner  minstrel's  lay 

Open  her  bosom's  glowing  vail, 
Than  Love  shall  ever  doubt  a  tone, 

A  breath  of  the  beloved  One  ! 

Hobe.  —  Shahspeare. 
Nature  is  fine  in  Love ;  and,  where  'tis  fine, 
It  sends  some  precious  instance  of  itself 
After  the  thing  it  loves. 

?i0be.  —  Shahspeare. 
THERE  lives  within  the  very  flame  of  Love 

A  kind  of  Wick,  or  Snuff,  that  will  abate  it; 
And  nothing  is  at  a  like  goodness  still : 
For  goodness,  growing  to  a  Pleurisy, 
Dies  in  his  own  too-much. 

2Lobe.—  Byron. 
A  H,  happy  sbe  !  to  'scape  from  him  whose  Kiss 

Had  been  pollution  unto  aught  so  chaste ; 
Who  soon  had  left  her  charms  for  vulgar  Bliss, 
And  spoil'd  her  goodly  Lands  to  gild  his  waste, 
Nor  calm  domestic  Peace  had  ever  deign'd  to  taste. 

ILobe.  —  Shahspeare. 
Where  Love  is  great,  the  littlest  doubts  are  fear ; 
Where  little  Fears  grow  great,  great  Love  grows  there 

llObe.  —  Shahspeare. 
Looks  kill  Love,  and  Love  by  looks  reviveth  : 
A  Smile  recures  the  wounding  of  a  Frown, 
But  blessed  bankrupt,  that  by  Love  so  thriveth 


294  ILLUSTRATION'S    OF    TRUTH; 

ILobe.  —  Byron. 

The  river 
Damrn'd  from  its  Fountain — the  Child  from  the  Knee 

And  Breast  maternal  wean'd  at  once  for  ever, 
Would  wither  less  than  these  two  torn  apart ! 
Alas  !  there  is  no  instinct  like  the  Heart ! 

Hob*.— -Byron. 

A  ND  he  was  mourn'd  by  one  whose  quiet  Grief 
Less  loud,  outlasts  a  people's  for  their  chief. 
Vain  was  all  question  ask'd  her  of  the  past, 
And  vain  e'en  menace — silent  to  the  last; 
She  told  nor  whence  nor  why  she  left  behind 
Her  all  for  one  who  seem'd  but  little  kind. 
Why  did  she  love  him  ?  Curious  fool ! — be  still — 
Is  human  Love  the  growth  of  human  will  ? 
To  her  he  might  be  Gentleness;  the  stern 
Have  deeper  thoughts  than  your  dull  eyes  discern, 
And  when  they  love,  your  smilers  guess  not  how 
Beats  the  strong  Heart,  though  less  the  Lips  avow. 

ILobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
She  never  told  her  Love, 
But  let  Concealment,  like  a  worm  i'  the  bud, 
Feed  on  her  damask  Cheek;  she  pined  in  thought; 
And,  with  a  green  and  yellow  Melancholy 
She  sat  (like  patience  on  a  monument) 
Smiling  at  Grief. 

Hobe.  — Byron. 
T>UT  there  was  something  wanting  on  the  whole — ■ 
I  don't  know  what,  and  therefore  cannot  tell — 
Which,  pretty  women — the  sweet  souls  ! — call  Soul : 

Certes  is  was  not  Body ;  he  was  well 
Proportion'd  as  a  poplar  or  a  pole — 

A  handsome  man,  that  human  miracle ; 
And  in  each  circumstance  of  Love  or  War 
Had  still  preserved  his  Perpendicular. 

ilObe,  —  Shakspeare. 

If  I  prove  her  haggard, 
Tho'  that  her  jesses  were  my  dear  heart-strings, 
I'd  whistle  her  off,  and  let  her  down  the  wind 
To  prey  at  Fortune. 

I  had  rather  be  a  Toad, 
And  live  upon  the  vapour  of  a  dungeon, 
Than  keep  a  Corner  in  the  thing  I  love, 
For  others'  use. 


0 


0 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  295 

ILobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
SHE,  that  hath  a  Heart  of  that  fine  frame, 
To  pay  this  debt  of  Love  but  to  a  Brother, 
How  will  she  love,  when  tbe  rich  golden  shaft 
Hath  kill'd  the  flock  of  all  Affections  else 
That  live  in  her?  when  Liver,  Brain,  and  Heart, 
These  sov'reign  Thrones,  are  all  supplied  and  filled, 
Her  sweet  perfections,  with  one  self-same  King ! 

?iObe.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTER  passions  are  made  of  nothing  but  the  finest  part  of  pure 
Love  :  we  cannot  call  her  winds  and  waters,  sighs  and  tears; 
they  are  greater  storms  and  tempests  than  almanacs  can  report: 
this  cannot  be  Cunning  in  her;  if  it  be,  she  makes  a  Shower  of 
Rain  as  well  as  Jove. 

Uflbe.  —  Byron. 
With  thee  all  toils  are  sweet,  each  clime  hath  charms ; 
Earth — Sea  alike — our  World  within  our  arms  ! 

lUlbe*  —-Byron. 

Love !  no  habitant  of  earth  thou  art — 

An  unseen  Seraph,  we  believe  in  thee; 

A  faith  whose  martyrs  are  the  broken  Heart : 

But  never  yet  hath  seen,  nor  e'er  shall  see, 

The  naked  eye,  thy  form,  as  it  should  be ; 

The  mind  hath  made  thee,  as  it  peopled  Heaven, 

Even  with  its  own  desiring  phantasy, 
And  to  a  thought  such  shape  and  image  given, 
As   haunts  the   unquench'd   Soul — parched — wearied — 
wrung — and  riven. 

1L  0  b  e.  —  Shakspeare. 
When  Love  begins  to  sicken  and  decay, 
It  useth  an  enforced  Ceremony. 

Uobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
HEN  the  Blood  burns,  how  prodigal  the  soul 
Lends  the  Tongue  vows.     These  blazes,  Daughter, 
Giving  mnre  light  than  heat,  extinct  in  both, 
Even  in  their  promise  as  it  is  a  making, 
You  must  not  take  for  Fire. 
Be  somewhat  scanter  of  your  maiden  presence, 
Set  your  Intreatments  at  a  higher  rate, 
Than  a  command  to  parley. 

Uobc.  —  Shakspeare. 
T>ASE  men,  being  m  Love,  have  then  a  Nobility  in  t^cir  natures 
more  than  is  native  to  them. 

2A 


W 


U96  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

ILobe.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
As  in  the  sweetest  Bud 
The  eating  Canker  dwells,  so  eating  Love 
Inhabits  in  the  finest  wits  of  all. 

As  the  most  forward  Bud 
Is  eaten  by  the  Canker  ere  it  blow/ 
Even  so  by  Love  the  young  and  tender  Wit 
Is  turn'd  to  Folly ;  blasting  in  the  bud, 
Losing  his  verdure  even  in  the  prime, 
And  all  the  fair  effects  of  future  Hopes. 

HO  be,  —  Milton. 
"pORSAKE  me  not  thus,  witness  Heaven 

What  Love  sincere,  and  Reverence  in  my  heart 
I  bear  thee,  and  unweeting  have  offended, 
Unhappily  deceived  !  Thy  suppliant, 
I  beg  and  clasp  thy  Knees ;  bereave  me  not, 
Whereon  I  live,  thy  gentle  looks,  thy  aid, 
Thy  counsel  in  this  uttermost  Distress, 
My  only  strength  and  stay :  forlorn  of  thee, 
Whither  shall  I  betake  me,  where  subsist  ? 

Hob?.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
*\TY  Love  is  strengthen'd,  though  more  weak  in  seeming : 

I  love  not  less,  though  less  the  Show  appear : 
That  Love  is  merchandised,  whose  rich  esteeming 

The  owner's  Tongue  doth  publish  everywhere. 
Our  Love  was  new,  and  then  but  in  the  spring, 

When  I  was  wont  to  greet  it  with  my  Lays ; 
As  Philomel  in  Summer's  front  doth  sing, 

And  stops  his  pipe  in  growth  of  riper  days; 
Not  that  the  Summer  is  less  pleasant  now 

Than  when  her  mournful  Hymns  did  hush  the  night, 
But  that  wild  Music  burdens  every  bough, 

And  sweets  grown  common  lose  their  dear  delight. 

HO  be,  —  Scott. 
T^HE  Rose  is  fairest  when  His  budding  new, 

And  Hope  is  brightest  when  it  dawns  from  fears; 
The  Rose  is  sweetest  wash'd  with  morning  Dew, 
And  Love  is  loveliest  when  embalm'd  in  Tears. 

HO  be,  — Byron. 
T  OVE'S  a  capricious  power :  I've  known  it  hold 
Out  through  a  Fever  caused  by  its  own  heat; 
But  be  much  puzzled  by  a  Cough  and  Cold, 
And  find  a  Quinsy  -very  hard  to  treat. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  29' 

Hobe«  —  Spenser. 
T>UT  who  can  tell  what  cause  had  that  fair  Maid 

To  use  him  so,  that  loved  her  so  well  ? 
Or  who  with  blame  can  justly  her  upbraid, 

For  loving  not — for  who  can  Love  compel  ? 
And  sooth  to  say,  it  is  fool-hardy  thing 
Rashly  to  witen  creatures  so  divine  ! 
For  demigods  they  be,  and  first  did  spring 

From  Heaven,  though  graft  in  Frailness  Feminine. 

UOue*—  Byron. 
Man's  love  is  of  man's  life  a  thing,  a  Part : 
'Tis  Woman's  whole  Existence. 

ILobc.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

Heaven  witness, 
I've  been  to  you  a  true  and  humble  Wife, 
At  all  times  to  your  Will  conformable  : 
Ever  in  fear  to  kindle  your  Dislike, 
Yea,  subject  to  your  count'nance;  glad  or  sorry, 
As  I  saw  it  inclined  :  when  was  the  hour, 
I  ever  contradicted  your  Desire  ? 
Or  made  it  not  mine  too  ?  which  of  your  Friends 
Have  I  not  strove  to  love,  although  I  knew 
He  were  mine  Enemy  ?  what  friend  of  mine, 
That  had  to  him  derived  your  Anger,  did  I 
Continue  in  my  liking?  nay,  gave  notice 
He  was  from  thence  discharged.     Sir,  call  to  mind, 
That  I  have  been  your  Wife,  in  this  obedience, 
Upward  of  twenty  years;  and  have  been  blest 
With  many  Children  by  you.     If  in  the  course 
And  process  of  this  time  you  can  report, 
And  prove  it  too,  against  mine  Honour  aught, 
My  bond  of  Wedlock,  or  my  Love  and  Duty 
Against  your  sacred  person,  in  God's  name, 
Turu  me  away ;  and  let  the  foul'st  contempt 
Shut  door  upon  me,  and  so  give  me  up 
To  th'  sharpest  kind  of  Justice. 

Uobe.  —  Shdkspeare. 
T  OVE  is  full  of  unbefitting  strains ; 

All  wanton  as  a  Child,  skipping,  and  vain ; 
Form'd  by  the  eye,  and,  therefore,  like  the  Eye, 
Full  of  strange  shapes,  of  habits  and  of  forms, 
Varying  in  subjects  as  the  Eye  doth  roll 
To  every  varied  object  in  his  Glance. 


298  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 


ILobe.  —  Shdkspeare. 
XT  AVE  I  lived  thus  long  (let  me  speak  myself, 

Since  Virtue  finds  no  friends)  a  Wife,  a  true  one? 
A  woman  (I  dare  say,  without  Vain  Glory;) 
Never  yet  branded  with  suspicion  ? 
Have  I,  with  all  my  full  Affections, 
Loved  him  next  Heaven,  obey'd  him  ? 
Been,  out  of  fondness,  superstitious  to  him  ; 
Almost  forgot  my  Prayers  to  content  him  * 
And  am  I  thus  rewarded?  'tis  not  well. 
Bring  me  a  constant  Woman  to  her  husband, 
One,  that  ne'er  dream'd  a  joy  beyond  his  Pleasure  : 
And  to  that  woman,  when  she  has  done  most, 
Yet  will  I  add  an  Honour  ;  a  great  Patience. 

Hobe.  —  Mrs.  Tiglie. 

\^THEN  Pleasure  sparkles  in  the  cup  of  youth, 
And  the  gay  hours  on  downy  wing  advance, 

Oh !  then  'tis  sweet  to  hear  the  lip  of  Truth 

Breathe  the  soft  vows  of  Love,  sweet  to  entrance 
The  raptured  soul  by  intermingling  glance 

Of  mutual  Bliss ;  sweet  amid  roseate  bowers, 
Led  by  the  hand  of  Love,  to  weave  the  dance, 

Or  unmolested  crop  Life's  fairy  flowers, 

Or  bask  in  Joy's  bright  sun  through  calm  unclouded  hours 

Utlbe,  —  SJiaJcspeare. 
Love  is  blind,  and  Lovers  cannot  see 
The  pretty  follies  that  themselves  commit. 

Eobe*  —  Bryden. 

Love  never  fails  to  master  what  he  finds, 
But  works  a  different  way  in  different  minds : 
The  Fool  enlightens,  and  the  Wise  he  blinds. 

HO  be*  —  ShaJcspeare. 
(~)H,  thou  didst  then  ne'er  love  so  heartily : 

If  thou  remember'st  not  the  slightest  Folly 
That  ever  Love  did  make  thee  run  into, 
Thou  hast  not  loved  : 
Or  if  thou  hast  not  sat,  as  I  do  now, 
Wearying  thy  hearer  in  thy  Mistress'  praise, 
Thou  hast  not  loved  : 
Or  if  thou  hast  not  broke  from  company, 
Abruptly,  as  my  Passion  now  makes  me, 
Thou  hast  not  loved. 


0R,  THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  299 

Hob*,  —  MUion. 

With  thee 
Certain  my  resolution  is  to  die ; 
How  can  I  live  without  thee,  how  forego 
Thy  sweet  converse  and  Love  so  dearly  join'd; 
To  live  again  in  these  wild  woods  forlorn  ? 
Should  God  create  another  Eve,  and  I 
Another  rib  afford,  yet  loss  of  thee 
Would  never  from  my  Heart :  no,  no,  I  feel 
The  link  of  nature  draw  me  :  flesh  of  flesh, 
Bone  of  my  bone  thou  art,  and  from  thy  state 
Mine  never  shall  be  parted,  Bliss  or  Woe. 

iLobe.  —  Mrs.  Tighe. 
AND  thou,  sweet  sprite,  whose  power  doth  far  extend, 

Smile  on  the  mean  historian  of  thy  fame  ! 
My  heart  in  each  distress  and  fear  befriend, 
Nor  ever  let  it  feel  a  fiercer  Flame 
Than  Innocence  may  cherish  free  from  blame, 
And  Hope  may  nurse,  and  Sympathy  may  own  : 

For,  as  thy  rights  I  never  would  disclaim, 
But  true  Allegiance  ofler'd  to  thy  throne, 
So  may  I  love  but  one,  by  one  beloved  alone. 

ILobe,  —  Byron. 
TF  changing  cheek,  and  scorching  Vein, 

Lips  taught  to  writhe,  but  not  complain, 
If  bursting  Heart,  and  madd'ning  brain, 
And  daring  deed,  and  vengeful  Steel, 
And  all  that  I  have  felt,  and  feel, 
Betoken  Love — that  love  was  mine. 

Ufjbe*  —  Shakspeare. 
HTHEN  let  me  go,  and  hinder  not  my  course : 

I'll  be  as  patient  as  a  gentle  stream, 
And  make  a  Pastime  of  each  weary  step, 
Till  the  last  step  has  brought  me  to  my  Love 
And  there  I'll  rest,  as,  after  much  turmoil, 
A  blessed  Soul  doth  in  Elysium. 

Hrjbe.  —  Shakspeare. 
What  Passion  hangs  these  weights  upon  my  Tongue  ? 
I  cannot  speak  to  her ;  yet  she  urged  Conference. 

llobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Her  virtues,  graced  with  external  Gifts, 
Do  breed  Love's  settled  passions  in  my  heart. 
2  a2 


300  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Hebe*  —  Bynm. 
'THUS  Passion's  fire  and  Woman's  art 

Can  turn  and  tame  the  Sterner  Heart; 
From  these  its  form  and  tone  are  ta'en, 
And  what  they  make  it,  must  remain, 
But  break — before  it  bend  again. 

Eobe.  —  Byron. 
J  DEEM'D  that  time,  I  deem'd  that  Pride, 
Had  quench'd  at  length  my  boyish  Flame 
Nor  knew,  till  seated  by  thy  side, 
My  Heart  in  all,  save  Hope,  the  same. 

Itobe*  —  Shakspeare. 
\\TE,  that  are  true  Lovers,  run  into  strange  capers ;  but  as  all 
is  mortal  in  Nature,  so  is  all  Nature  in  love  mortal  in  Folly. 

ilobe. — Byron. 
Earth  holds  no  other  like  to  thee, 
Or  if  it  doth,  in  vain  for  me. 

ILobe.  —  Smth. 
"  T  OVE  covers  a  multitude  of  sins."   When  a  Scar  cannot  be  taken 
away,  the  next  kind  office  is  to  hide  it. — Love  is  never  so 
blind  as  when  it  is  to  spy  Faults. 

HO  be,  —  Shakspeare. 
They  love  least,  that  let  men  know  their  Love. 

3Lobe*  —  Shakspeare. 
T  LOVE  your  son  : 

My  friends  were  poor,  but  honest ;  so's  my  Love. 
Be  not  offended ;  for  it  hurts  not  him, 
That  he  is  loved  of  me  :  I  follow  him  not 
By  any  token  of  presumptuous  suit : 
Nor  would  I  have  him,  till  I  do  deserve  him ; 
Yet  never  know  how  that  Desert  should  be. 
I  know  I  love  in  vain,  strive  against  Hope. 
Yet,  in  this  captious  and  intenible  sieve, 
I  still  pour  in  the  waters  of  my  Love, 
And  lack  not  to  lose  still. 

Hub?.  — Milton. 

Confirm'd  then  I  resolve, 
Adam  shall  share  with  me  in  Bliss  or  Wo : 
So  dear  I  love  him,  that  with  him  all  deaths 
I  could  endure,  without  him  live  no  Life. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  301 

That  you  may  be  beloved,  be  amiable. 

Hob?*  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
TNFIDELITIES  ought  to   extinguish  Love,  and  we  should  not 
be  jealous,  even  when  we  have  reason  to  be  so ;  it  is  only  per- 
sons who  avoid  causing  Jealousy  who  are  worth  being  jealous  of. 

11 0  be.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

0  GIVE  Pity 
To  her,  whose  state  is  such,  that  cannot  choose 
But  lend  and  give,  where  she  is  sure  to  lose ; 
That  seeks  not  to  find  that  her  Search  implies, 
But,  riddle-like,  lives  sweetly  where  she  ties. 

Uobe.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

He  says,  he  loves  my  Daughter; 
I  think  so  too ;  for  never  gazed  the  Moon 
Upon  the  water,  as  he'll  stand  and  read 
As  'twere  my  daughter's  Eyes  :  and,  to  be  plain, 
I  think,  there  is  not  half  a  Kiss  to  choose 
Who  loves  another  best. 

fifjbe,  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
T7N VY  is  destroyed  by  true  Friendship,  and  Coquetry  by  true 
Love. 

?iobc.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
CWEET,  rouse  yourself;  and  the  weak  wanton  Cupid 

Shall  from  your  neck  unloose  his  amorous  fold, 
And,  like  a  Dewdrop  from  the  Lion's  mane, 
Be  shook  to  air. 

Uobe.  —  Addison. 
rPHE  intelligence  of  Affection  is  carried   on   by  the  Eye  only, 
good-breeding  has  made  the  Tongue  falsify  the  heart,  and  act 
a  part  of  continued  restraint,  while  nature  has  preserved  the  Eyes 
to  herself,  that  she  may  not  be  disguised  or  misrepresented. 

HO  be,  —  ShaJcspeare. 
T  OVE  is  a  smoke  raised  with  the  fume  of  Sighs: 
Being  purged,  a  Fire  sparkling  in  lovers'  eyes; 
Being  vext,  a  Sea  nourish'd  with  lovers'  tears; 
What  is  it  else  ?  a  Madness  most  discreet, 
A  choking  Gall,  and  a  preserving  Sweet. 

Hebe.—  OreviUe. 
AS  Love  will  often  make  a  Wise  man  act  like  a  Fool,  so  will 
Interest  often  make  a  Fool  act  like  a  Wise  man. 


302  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

ILabt.  —  Bulwer. 
'THERE  is  so  little  to  redeem  the  dry  mass  of  Follies  and  Errors 
from  which   the  materials  of  this  Life  are  composed,  that  any 
thing  to  love  or  to  reverence  becomes,  as  it  were,  the  Sabbath  for 
the  mind. 

Unbe.  —  Tucker. 
T~  OVE,  peculiarly  so  called,  must  always  centre  in  a  single  ob- 
ject, because  that  thorough  coincidence  of  interests  and  par- 
ticipation of  pleasures  necessary  to  render  it  perfect,  cannot  obtain 
between  more  than  two  persons.  Friendship  may  take  in  a  little 
larger  compass,  but  can  extend  only  to  a  few  chosen  objects;  the 
friendships  recorded  in  history  have  always  run  in  pairs,  as  between 
Theseus  and  Pirithous,  Orestes  and  Pylades,  Scipio  and  Lelius, 
Cicero  and  Atticus. 

ILcbe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Oh,  'tis  the  curse  in  Love,  and  still  approved, 
When  Women  cannot  love  where  they're  beloved 

Hob?.  —  Shakspeare. 

Too  light  winning 
Makes  the  Prize  light. 

HO  be.  — Byron. 
!E  cold  in  Clime  are  cold  in  Blood, 
And  love  as  scarce  deserves  the  name; 
But  mine  is  like  the  Lava  flood 

That  burns  in  Etna's  breast  of  Flame. 

?i.0be.  —  Terence. 
TF  indeed  you  can  keep  to  your  Resolution,  you  will  act  a  noble 
and  a  manly  part :  but  if,  when  you  have  set  about  it,  your 
Courage  fails  you,  and  you  make  a  voluntary  Submission,  acknow- 
ledging the  violence  of  your  Passion,  and  your  inability  to  hold 
out  any  longer,  all  is  over  with  you;  you  are  undone,  and  may  go 
hang  yourself;  she  will  insult  over  you,  when  she  finds  you  her 
Slave. 

Hub?.  —  Greville. 
HPHE  poets  judged  like  Philosophers,  when  they  feigned  Love  to 
be  Blind;  how  often  do  we  see  in  a  Woman  what  our  judg- 
ment and  taste  approve,  and  yet  feel  nothing  toward  her;  how 
often  what  they  both  condemn,  and  yet  feel  a  great  deal ! 

?1 0  b  C.  —  Sh  akspeare. 
She  stripp'd  it  from  her  arm ;  I  see  her  yet ; 
Her  pretty  Action  did  outsell  her  gift, 
And  yet  enrich' d  it  too. 


'jh: 


OR,    THINGS   NEW   AND    OLD.  303 

HO  be.  —  Shakspeare. 
T/'IND  is  my  Love  to-day,  to-morrow  kind, 

Still  constant  in  a  wondrous  Excellence ; 
Fair,  Kind,  and  True,  have  often  lived  alone, 
Which  three,  till  now,  never  kept  seat  in  one. 

1L  0  b  $ .  —  Shakspea  re. 
Men's  vows  are  women's  Traitors ! 

3Ldbe.  — Shakspeare. 
There's  beggary  in  the  Love  that  can  be  reckon'd. 

Uobe.  —  Greville. 
C^x\SUAL  disagreements  have  been  considered  as  springs  that 
give  new  force  to  Love ;  and  I  believe  they  are  so ;  yet  as  a 
spring  too  frequently  or  too  forcibly  used,  remains  at  the  place  to 
which  it  is  drawn  back  instead  of  flying  forward;  so  Lovers  will 
find,  that  disagreements,  if  they  are  too  frequent,  will  at  length 
lose  their  Elasticity  and  impel  to  Love  no  more. 

HfJ  be.  —  Shakspeare. 

I  will  be  gone  : 
My  being  here  it  is,  that  keeps  thee  hence  : 
Shall  I  stay  here?  No,  no,  although 
The  air  of  Paradise  did  fan  the  house, 
And  Angels  oflBced  all. 

Hobe.  —  Shakspeare. 

Lovers  break  not  hours, 
Unless  it  be  to  come  before  their  time; 
So  much  they  spur  their  Expedition. 

ilObe.  —  Terence. 
TT  is  possible  that  a  man  can  be  so  changed  by  Love,  that  one 
could  not  recognise  him  to  be  the  same  person. 

Hobe.  —  Shakspeare. 

Admired  Miranda! 
Indeed,  the  top  of  Admiration ;  worth 
What's  dearest  to  the  world  !  full  many  a  Lady 
I've  eyed  with  best  regard,  and  many  a  time 
Th'  harmony  of  their  tongues  hath  into  bondage 
Brought  my  too  diligent  Ear;  for  several  virtues 
Have  I  liked  sev'ral  Women,  never  any 
With  so  full  soul,  but  some  defect  in  her 
Did  quarrel  with  the  noblest  grace  she  owed, 
And  put  it  to  the  foil.     But  you,  0  you, 
So  perfect,  and  so  peerless,  are  created 
Of  every  Creature's  best. 


304  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

yLobt.  —  Colton. 
T'HE  plainest  man  that  can  convince  a  Woman  that  he  is  reaky 
in  Love  with  her,  has  done  more  to  make  her  in  Love  with 
him  than  the  handsomest  man,  if  he  can  produce  no  such  convic- 
tion. For  the  Love  of  Woman  is  a  shoot,  not  a  seed,  and  flourishes 
most  vigorously  only  when  ingrafted  on  that  Love  which  is  rooted 
in  the  breast  of  another. 

ilobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
To  be  wise,  and  Love, 
Exceeds  Man's  might. 

Hobe*—  Hume. 

T\^HEN  a  person  is  once  heartily  in  Love,  the  little  faults  and 
caprices  of  his  Mistress,  the  jealousies  and  quarrels  to  which 
that  Commerce  is  so  subject,  however  unpleasant  they  be,  and 
rather  connected  with  Anger  and  Hatred,  are  yet  to  be  found,  in 
many  instances,  to  give  additional  force  to  the  prevailing  Passion. 

Hob?.  —  Middleton. 
The  treasures  of  the  deep  are  not  so  precious 
As  are  the  conceal'd  Comforts  of  a  man 
Lock'd  up  in  Woman's  Love. 

ILobtf.  —  SJiakspeare. 
Wish  chastely,  and  love  dearly. 

HO  be.  —  Laberius. 
rFO  be  in  Love,  and  at  the  same  time  to  act  wisely,  is  scarcely 
within  the  Power  of  a  god. 

3Lobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
T)TDST  thou  but  know  the  inly  touch  of  Love, 

Thou  would'st  as  soon  go  kindle  fire  with  snow, 
As  seek  to  quench  the  fire  of  Love  with  words. 
I  do  not  seek  to  quench  your  Love's  hot  fire, 
But  qualify  the  Fire's  extreme  rage, 
Lest  it  should  burn  above  the  bounds  of  reason. 
The  more  thou  dam'st  it  up,  the  more  it  burns ; 
The  current  that  with  gentle  murmur  glides, 
Thou  know'st,  being  stopp'd,  impatiently  doth  rage; 
But,  when  his  fair  course  is  not  hinder'd, 
He  makes  sweet  Music  with  the  enamell'd  stones, 
Giving  a  gentle  Kiss  to  every  sedge 
He  overtaketh  in  his  pilgrimage ; 
And  so  by  many  winding  nooks  he  strays, 
With  willing  sport,  to  the  wild  Ocean. 


0R,m THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  305 

Hobe.  —  Erasmus. 
TOVE,  that  has  nothing  but  Beauty  to  keep  it  in  good  health,  is 
short-lived. 

Hobe.—  Burton. 
"V"0  Cord  or  Cable  can  draw  so  forcibly,  or  bind  so  fast,  as  Love 
can  do  with  only  a  single  Thread. 

llO  be.  —  Shakspeare. 
The  expedition  of  my  violent  Love 
Out-ran  the  pauser  Reason. 

Uobe.  —  La  Fontaine. 
C\  LOVE,  when  thou  gettest  Dominion  over  us,  we  may  bid  good- 
by  to  Prudence. 

Uobe.  —  Milton. 
Smiles  from  reason  flow,  to  Brutes  denied, 
And  are  of  Love  the  food. 

ILO  be.  —  Shakspeare. 
Bashful  sincerity,  and  comely  Love. 

Hebe.  —  Goldsmith. 
T  OVE,  when  founded  in  the  Heart,  will  show  itself  in  a  thousand 
unpremeditated  sallies  of  Fondness;  but  every  cool  deliberate 
exhibition  of  the  Passions  only  argues  little  understanding  or  great 
Insincerity. 

Hobe.  —  Fuller. 
A  FFECTIONS,  like  the  Conscience,  are  rather  to  be  led  than 
drawn ;  and  'tis  to  be  feared,  they  that  marry  where  they  do  not 
love,  will  love  where  they  do  not  marry. 

llobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
C\  SPIRIT  of  Love,  how  quick  and  fresh  art  thou ! 

That,  notwithstanding  thy  capacity, 
Receiveth  as  the  Sea,  naught  enters  there, 
Of  what  validity  and  pitch  soe'er, 
But  falls  into  abatement  and  low  price, 
Even  in  a  minute  !  so  full  of  Shapes  is  Fancy 
That  it  alone  is  high-fantastical. 

Hobe.  —  Dry  den. 
1  ET  Grace  and  Goodness  be  the  principal  loadstone  of  thy  Affec- 
tions.    For  Love  which  hath  ends,  will  have  an  end ;  whereas 
that  which  is  founded  on  true  Virtue,  will  always  continue. 

HO  be.  —  Shakspeare. 
Let  me  but  bear  your  Love,  I'll  bear  your  Cares 
20 


306  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Wjfot.—SamUe. 

JT  is  as  false  to  play  with  Fire  as  to  dally  with  Gallantry.  Love 
is  a  passion  that  hath  friends  in  the  garrison,  and  for  that  reason 
must  by  a  Woman  be  kept,  at  such  a  distance,  that  she  may  not 
be  within  the  danger  of  doing  the  most  usual  thing  in  the  world, 
which  is  conspiring  against  herself:  else  the  humble  Gallant, 
who  is  only  admitted  as  a  trophy,  very  often  becometh  the  con- 
queror; he  putteth  on  the  style  of  Victory,  and  from  an  admirer 
groweth  into  a  Master,  for  so  he  may  be  called  from  the  moment 
he  is  in  possession. 

Hobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
T)OUBT  thou,  the  stars  are  Fire ; 

Doubt,  that  the  Sun  doth  move  : 
Doubt  Truth  to  be  a  Liar ; 

But  never  doubt,  I  love. 


\\ 


HO UC.  —  Valerius  Maximus. 
THERE  there  exists  the  most  ardent  and  true  Love,  it  is  often 
better  to  be  united  in  Death  than  separated  in  Life. 

3L0 be*  —  Mrs.  Cowley. 
'THE  woman  that  has  not  touched  the  Heart  of  a  man,  before  he 
leads  her  to  the  Altar,  has  scarcely  a  chance  to  charm  it,  when 
Possession  and  Security  turn  their  powerful  arms  against  her. 

HO  be.  —  Colton. 
QORPOREAL  charms  may  indeed  gain  admirers,  but  there  must 
be  mental   ones  to  retain  them )  and  Horace   had  a  delicate 
feeling  of  this,  when  he  refused  to  restrict  the  Pleasures  of  the 
Lover  merely  to  his  eyes,  but  added  also  those  of  the  Ear. 
Qui  sedens  identidem,  te 
Spectat  et  audit  I 

%ffot.  —  Plautus. 
~V\THERE  Love  has  once  obtained  influence,  any  Seasoning,  I 
believe,  will  please. 

Hobe.  —  Shakspeare. 

My  Love  is  thaw'd ; 
Which,  like  a  waxen  image  'gainst  a  Fire, 
Bears  no  impression  of  the  thing  it  was. 

Hobe.  —  Slienstone. 
T  OVE  can  be  founded  upon  Nature  only,  or  the  appearance  of  it, 
for  this  reason  \  however   a  peruke  may  tend   to  soften  the 
human  features,  it  can  very  seldom  make  amends  for  the  mixture 
of  Artifice  which  it  discovers. 


.-J 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  307 

3Ldbe»  —  Shakspeare. 
Dost  thou  love  Pictures  ?  we  will  fetch  thee  strait 
Adonis,  painted  by  a  running  brook ; 
And  Citherea  all  in  sedges  hid ; 
Which  seem  to  move,  and  wanton  with  her  Breath, 
Ev'n  as  the  waving  Sedges  play  with  wind. 

it 0 be,  -  -  Lavater. 
T  OVE  sees  what  no  eye  sees ;  Love  hears  what  no  ear  hears ; 
and  what  never  rose  in  the  heart  of  man  Love  prepares  for  its 
object. 

?i.0be.  —  Shakspeare. 
She  bids  you, 
All  on  the  wanton  Rushes  lay  you  down, 
And  rest  your  gentle  Head  upon  her  lap, 
And  she  will  sing  the  song  that  pleaseth  you, 
And  on  your  eyelids  crown  the  (rod  of  sleep, 
Charming  your  Blood  with  pleasing  heaviness; 
Making  such  difference  betwixt  wake  and  sleep, 
As  is  the  difference  betwixt  day  and  night, 
The  hour  before  the  heavenly-harness' d  team 
Begins  his  Golden  progress  in  the  east. 

Uube.  — La  Brinjere. 
T1TE  never  love  heartily  but  once,  and  that  is  the  first  time  we 
love.     Succeeding  inclinations  are  less  involuntary. 

!4rbe*—  Cotton. 

TT  is  a  dangerous  experiment  to  call  in  Gratitude  as  an  ally  to 
Love.  Love  is  a  debt,  which  inclination  always  pays,  obliga- 
tion never;  and  the  moment  it  becomes  luke-warm  and  evanescent, 
reminiscences  on  the  score  of  Gratitude  serve  only  to  smother  the 
flame. 

itobc,  —  Shakspeare. 

It  were  all  one 
That  I  should  love  a  bright  particular  Star, 
And  think  to  wed  it;  he  is  so  above  me : 
In  his  bright  Radiance  and  collateral  light 
Must  I  be  comforted,  not  in  his  sphere. 
Th'  ambition  in  my  Love  thus  plagues  itself; 
The  hind,  that  would  be  mated  by  the  Lion, 
Must  die  for  Love. 

II 0  be,  —  Colton. 
T  OVE  is  an  alliance  of  Friendship  and  of  Lust;  if  the  former 
predominate,  it  is  a  Passion  exalted  and  refined,  but  if  the 
latter,  gross  and  sensual. 

2B 


308  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

llfibe.— Addison. 
T>IDICULE,  perhaps,  is  a  better  expedient  against  Love,  than 
sober  advice;  and  I  am  of  opinion,  that  Hudibras  and  Don 
Quixote  may  be  as  effectual  to  cure  the  extravagancies  of  this 
Passion,  as  any  one  of  the  old  philosophers. 

Hob**— Shakspeare. 

TF  music  be  the  food  of  Love,  play  on ; 
Give  me  excess  of  it;  that,  surfeiting, 

The  appetite  may  sicken,  and  so  die. 

That  strain  again ;  it  had  a  dying  fall : 
Oh,  it  came  o'er  my  Ear  like  the  sweet  south 
That  breathes  upon  a  bank  of  violets, 
Stealing  and  giving  Odour. 

ILobc.  —  Shakspeare. 
Tell  this  youth  what  'tis  to  Love. — 
It  is  to  be  all  made  of  Sighs  and  Tears ;  • 
It  is  to  be  all  made  of  Faith  and  Service  : — 
It  is  to  be  all  made  of  Fantasy, 
All  made  of  Passion,  and  all  made  of  wishes; 
All  Adoration,  Duty,  and  Observance, 
All  Humbleness,  all  Patience,  and  Impatience, 
All  Purity,  all  Trial,  all  Observance. 

ILobe.  — Addison. 
'THE  pleasantest  part  of  a  man's  life  is  generally  that  which 
passes  in  Courtship,  provided  his  Passion  be  sincere,  and  the 
party  beloved  kind  with  Discretion.     Love,  Desire,  Hope,  all  the 
pleasing  motions  of  the  Soul,  rise  in  the  pursuit. 

2Lobc.  — Hawhesivorth. 
A  S  Love  without  Esteem  is  volatile  and  capricious  ;    Esteem 
without  Love  is  languid  and  cold. 

Edbe.  —  Shakspeare. 

Love  is  like  a  Child, 
That  longs  for  every  thing  that  he  can  come  by. 

Itobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Leave  you  your  power  to  draw, 
And  I  shall  have  no  Power  to  follow  you. 

HO  be.  —  Shakspeare. 
TF  ever  (as  that  ever  may  be  near) 

You  meet  in  some  fresh  cheek  the  power  of  Fancy, 
Then  shall  you  know  the  Wounds  invisible 
That  Love's  keen  Arrows  make. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  309 

Hobe.  _  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 
'TRUE  Love  can  no  more  be  diminished  by  showers  of  evil  than 
Flowers  are  marred  by  timely  Rains. 

HO  be,  —  Euripides. 
That  Love  alone,  which  Virtue's  laws  control, 
Deserves  reception  in  the  human  Soul. 

Hdbe.  —  Terence. 

A  LL  these  inconveniences  are  incidents  to  Love :    Reproaches, 

Jealousies,  Quarrels,  Reconcilements,  War,  and  then  Peace. 

HO  be.  —  Colton. 
T  OVE  may  exist  without  Jealousy,  although  this  is  rare;  but 
Jealousy  may  exist  without  Love,  and  this  is  common. 

Hobe.—  Shakspeare. 

0  you  leaden  messengers, 
That  ride  upon  the  violent  speed  of  Fire, 
Fly  with  false  aim  :  move  the  still-piercing  air, 
That  sings  with  piercing,  do  not  touch  my  Lord ! 

Hobe.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
\\rE  always  dread   the  sight  of  the  person  we  Love  when  we 
have  been  coquetting  elsewhere. 

IlO  be.  —  Shakspeare. 

Time,  Force,  and  Death, 
Do  to  this  body  what  extremes  you  can : 
But  the  strong  base  and  building  of  my  Love 
Is  as  the  very  centre  of  the  Earth, 
Drawing  all  things  to  it. 

HO  be.  —  Shakspeare. 
T  LEAVE  myself,  my  friends,  and  all  for  Love. 

Thou,  thou  hast  metamorphosed  me; 
Made  me  neglect  my  Studies,  lose  my  time, 
War  with  good  Counsel,  set  the  world  at  naught ; 
Made  wit  with  musing  weak ;  Heart  sick  with  thought. 

H  0  b  e  ♦  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
A    MAN  of  sense  may  Love  like  a  Madman,  but  never  like  a 


Fool. 


Hobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
How  silver-sweet  sound  Lovers'  tongues  by  night, 
Like  softest  music  to  attending  ears ! 


310  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

?i0be.  —  Shakspeare. 
X  HAVE  done  penance  for  contemning  Love; 

Whose  high  imperious  thoughts  have  punish'd  me 
With  bitter  fasts,  with  penitential  groans; 
With  nightly  tears,  and  daily  heart-sore  sighs. 
For,  in  revenge  of  my  contempt  of  Love, 
Love  hath  chased  Sleep  from  my  enthralled  Eyes, 
And  made  them  watchers  of  mine  own  Heart's  Sorrow. 
0  gentle  Protheus,  Love's  a  mighty  lord; 
And  hath  so  humbled  me,  as  I  confess, 
There  is  no  wo  to  his  correction ; 
Nor  to  his  service,  no  such  Joy  on  earth. 
Now  no  discourse,  except  it  be  of  Love ; 
Now  can  I  break  my  fast,  dine,  sup,  and  sleep 
Upon  the  very  naked  name  of  Love. 

3Lobe.  — La  Relne  de  Navarre. 
TT  is  said  that  Jealousy  is  Love,  but  I  deny  it;    for  though 
Jealousy  be  produced  by  Love,  as  Ashes  are  by  Fire,  yet  Jea- 
lousy extinguishes  Love  as  Ashes  smother  the  Flame. 

ILobe*  — La  Rochefoucauld. 
In  Jealousy  there  is  more  self-love  than  Love. 

Uobe.  —  Sterne. 
TT  is  sweet  to  feel  by  what  fine-spun  threads  our  Affections  are 
drawn  together. 

ILobc.  —  Shakspeare. 
The  gifts,  she  looks  from  me,  are  pack'd  and  lock'd 
Up  in  my  Heart;  which  I  have  given  already, 
But  not  deliver'd. 

Uobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
We  cannot  fight  for  Love,  as  men  may  do ; 
We  should  be  woo'd,  and  were  not  made  to  woo. 

3Lobe*  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
A  LL  the  Passions  make  us  commit  faults,  but  Love  makes  us 
commit  the  most  ridiculous  ones. 

Itdbe.  —  Goethe. 
Hate  makes  us  vehement  partisans,  but  Love  still  more  so. 

3!cbe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Love 
Will  creep  in  Service  where  it  cannot  go. 

Hob?. — La  Rochefoucauld. 
We  forgive  so  long  as  we  love. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD.  311 

iLobc.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
0  HARD-BELIEVING  Love  !  how  strange  it  seems 

Not  to  believe,  and  jet  too  credulous ! 
Thy  weal  and  woe  are  both  of  them  extremes. 
Despair  and  Hope  make  thee  Ridiculous  ! 
The  one  doth  natter  thee,  in  thoughts  unlikely, 
With  likely  Thoughts,  the  other  kills  thee  quickly. 

Uobe.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
TPIE  pleasure  of  Love  is  in  loving.     We  are  happier  in  the 
Passion  we  feel  than  in  that  we  excite. 

Uobe.  —  Slidkspeare. 

If  the  measure  of  thy  Joy 
Be  heap'd  like  mine,  and  that  thy  skill  be  more 
To  blazon  it,  then  sweeten  with  thy  Breath 
This  neighbour  air,  and  let  rich  music's  tongue 
Unfold  the  imagined  Happiness,  that  both 
Receive  in  either  by  this  dear  encounter. 

lL0ue.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

Oh  my  soul's  joy  ! 
If  after  every  Tempest  come  such  calms, 
May  the  wind  blow  till  they  have  waken'd  Death ! 
And  let  the  labouring  bark  climb  hills  of  seas, 
Olympus-high ;  and  duck  again  as  low 
As  Hell's  from  Heaven  !  If  it  were  now  to  die, 
'Twere  now  to  be  most  happy )  for,  I  fear, 
My  soul  hath  her  content  so  absolute, 
That  not  another  Comfort  like  to  this 
Succeeds  in  unknown  fate. 

Ho  be  — ffadm. 

TT  makes  us  proud  when  our  love  of  a  mistress  is  returned ;  it 
ought  to  make  us  prouder  still  when  we  can  love  her  for  herself 
alone,  without  the  aid  of  any  such  selfish  reflection.     This  is  the 
Religion  of  Love. 

HO  be.  —  Shakspeare. 
TF  thou  dost  love,  pronounce  it  faithfully  : 

Or  if  you  think  I  am  too  quickly  won, 
Fll  frown  and  be  perverse,  and  say  thee  nay, 
So  thou  wilt  woo  :  but,  else,  not  for  the  World. 

?Lobc. —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
JT  is  difficult  to  define  Love.     All  that  we  can  say  of  it  is,  that 
in  the  Soul  it  is  a  passion  for  reigning ;  in  Minds  it  is  a  sym- 
pathy; and  in  the  Body  it  is  nothing  but  a  "latent  ana  delicate 
Desire  to  possess  the  loved  object. 

2e2 


'612         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Itobc La  Rochefoucauld. 

T  OVE,  like  Fire,  cannot  subsist  without  continual  movement; 
as  soon  as  it  ceases  to  hope  and  fear,  it  ceases  to  exist. 

Ucbe.—  Eazlitt. 
It  is  better  to  desire  than  to  enjoy,  to  love  than  to  be  loved. 

Hobe.  —  SJiakspeare. 
HPHE  course  of  true  Love  never  did  run  smooth ; 

But,  either,  it  was  different  in  Blood — 
Or  else  misgraffed,  in  respect  of  Years — 
Or  else  it  stood  upon  the  choice  of  Friends — 
Or  if  there  were  a  sympathy  in  choice, 
War,  Death,  or  Sickness  did  lay  siege  to  it ; 
Making  it  momentary  as  a  sound, 
Swift  as  a  Shadow,  short  as  any  Dream, 
Brief  as  the  lightning  in  the  collied  night, 
That  (in  a  spleen)  unfolds  both  Heav'n  and  Earth ; 
And  ere  a  man  hath  power  to  say,  Behold  ! 
The  jaws  of  Darkness  do  devour  it  up; 
So  quick  bright  things  come  to  confusion. 

Hob?.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
'THERE  is  no  Disguise  which  can  long  conceal  Love  where  it 
does,  or  feign  where  it  does  not,  exist. 

itfto*—  JeanTM, 

T^RIENDSHIP  requires  Actions  :    Love  requires  not  so  much 
proofs,  as  Expressions  of  Love.     Love  demands  little  else  than 
the  power  to  feel  and  to  requite  Love. 

Eobe.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

Love  is  not  Love, 
Which  alters  when  it  alteration  finds ; 

Or  bends,  with  the  remover  to  remove  : 
Oh  no  !  it  is  an  ever-fixed  mark, 

That  looks  on  tempests,  and  is  never  shaken ; 
It  is  the  Star  to  every  wandering  bark, 

Whose  worth's  unknown,  although  his  height  be  taken. 
Love's  not  Time's  fool,  though  rosy  Lips  and  Cheeks 

Within  his  bending  sickle's  compass  come  : 
Love  alters  not  with  his  brief  Hours  and  Weeks, 

But  bears  it  out  even  to  the  edge  of  Doom. 

2Lcbc.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
TT  is  with  true  Love  as  with  Apparitions.     Every  one  talks  of  it, 
but  few  have  ever  seen  it. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  313 

?Lobe. —  Anon. 
A  LL  tatlers  delight  in  getting  hold  of  any  thing  akin  to  a  Love 
Story ;  not  merely  from  a  fondness  for  scandal,  but  because 
the  most  powerful  and  pleasurable  of  human  Feelings  is  in  some 
measure  awakened  and  excited  thereby. 

ILobe.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
Bind  up  those  tresses ;  Oh,  what  Love  I  note 
Tn  the  fair  multitude  of  those  her  hairs ; 
Where  but  by  chance  a  silver  drop  hath  fall'n, 
Even  to  that  drop  ten  thousand  wiery  Friends 
Do  glew  themselves  in  sociable  Grief; 
Like  true,  inseparable,  faithful  Loves, 
Sticking  together  in  Calamity. 

Hobe.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
F  SWEAR  to  thee  by  Cupid's  strongest  bow ; 

By  his  best  Arrow  with  the  golden  head, 
By  the  simplicity  of  Venus'  doves, 
By  that,  which  knitteth  Souls,  and  prospers  Loves; 
And  by  that  fire  which  burn'd  the  Carthage  Queen, 
When  the  false  Trojan  under  sail  was  seen; 
By  all  the  Vows  that  ever  men  have  broke, 
In  number  more  than  ever  Women  spoke ; 
In  that  same  place  thou  hast  appointed  me, 
To-morrow  truly  will  I  meet  with  thee. 

HO  be.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
QH,  how  this  spring  of  Love  resembleth 
The  uncertain  glory  of  an  April  day ; 
Which  now  shows  all  the  beauty  of  the  Sun, 
And  by  and  by  a  Cloud  takes  all  away. 

3Lobc.  —  La  RocJiefoucauld. 
1VTEN  are  almost  equally  difficult  to  satisfy,  when  they  have  very 
much  Love,  and  when  they  have  scarcely  any  left. 

HO  be. — Byron. 
In  her  first  passion  woman  loves  her  Lover, 
In  all  the  others  what  she  loves,  is  Love. 

Hobe.  —  SJiakspeare. 
Farewell;  one  Eye  yet  looks  on  thee, 

But  with  my  heart  the  other  Eye  doth  see. 

Ah,  poor  our  sex  !  this  fault  in  us  I  find, 
The  error  of  our  Eye  directs  our  mind. 
What  error  leads,  must  err ;  Oh  then  conclude, 
Minds  sway'd  by  Eyes  are  full  of  turpitude. 


314  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Eobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Love's  heralds  should  be  thoughts, 
"Which  ten  times  faster  glide  than  the  Sun's  beams, 
Driving  back  Shadows  over  Wring  hills  : 
Therefore  do  nimble-pinion'd  Doves  draw  Love, 
And  therefore  hath  the  wind-swift  Cupid  wings. 

ILobe.  —  Ovid. 
T  ET  him  who  does  not  choose  to  be  considered  a  lazy  Fellow 
fall  in  Love. 

3i.0be*  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
"V^TOMEN  often  fancy  themselves  in  Love  even  when  they  are 
not.  The  occupation  of  an  Intrigue,  the  emotion  of  mind 
which  Gallantry  produces,  the  natural  leaning  to  the  pleasure  of 
being  loved,  and  the  pain  of  refusing,  persuade  them  that  they 
feel  the  passion  of  Love,  when  in  reality  they  feel  nothing  but 
Coquetry. 

HO  b$.  —  Shakspeare. 
Love  like  a  Shadow  flies,  when  substance  Love  pursues; 
Pursuing  that  that  flies,  and  flying  what  pursues. 

Hota—-  Shakspeare, 

HTHINGS  base  and  vile,  holding  no  quantity, 

Love  can  transpose  to  form  and  Dignity. 
Love  looks  not  with  the  Eyes,  but  with  the  mind ; 
And  therefore  is  winged  Cupid  painted  blind ; 
Nor  hath  Love's  mind  of  any  Judgment  taste ; 
"Wings,  and  no  eyes,  figure  unheedy  Haste  : 
And  therefore  is  Love  said  to  be  a  child, 
Because  in  choice  he  is  so  oft  beguiled. 
As  waggish  boys  in  game  themselves  forswear, 
So  the  boy  Love  is  perjured  everywhere. 

ILobtf.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
TT  is  impossible  to  love  a  second  time  what  we  have  once  really 
ceased  to  love. 

HO  be.  —  Colton. 
"pMENDSHIP  often  ends  in  Love;  but  Love,  in  Friendship — 
never. 

?Lob£.  —  Shakspeare. 
TELL  me,  where  is  Fancy  bred, 

Or  in  the  Heart,  or  in  the  Head  ? 
How  begot,  how  nourished  ? 
It  is  engender' d  in  the  eyes, 
With  gazing  fed ;  and  Fancy  dies 
In  the  Cradle  where  it  lies. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  315 

11 0  be,  —  Shalcspeare. 
They  do  not  love,  that  do  not  show  their  Love. 

ft  0  be,  —  Cotton. 
A  GE  and  Love  associate  not :  if  they  are  ever  allied,  the  firmer  the 
Friendship,  the  more  fatal  is  its  termination ;  and  an  old  man, 
like  a  Spider,  can  never  make  Love,  without  beating  his  own  death- 
watch. 

ILobe,  —  Cotton. 
T  OVE  is  an  alchymist  that  can  transmute  Poison  into  food — and 
a  Spaniel,  that  prefers  even  Punishment  from  one  hand,  to 
caresses  from  another.  But  it  is  in  Love,  as  in  War,  we  are  often 
more  indebted  for  our  success  to  the  weakness  of  the  defence,  than 
to  the  energy  of  the  attack ;  for  mere  Idleness  has  ruined  more 
women  than  Passion,  Vanity  more  than  Idleness,  and  Credulity 
more  than  either. 

?idbe.  —  Stialcspcare. 
f\  MOST  potential  Love  !  vow,  bond,  nor  space, 
In  thee  hath  neither  sting,  knot,  nor  confine, 
For  thou  art  all,  and  all  things  else  are  thine. 

When  thou  impressest,  what  are  Precepts  worth 
Of  stale  example?     When  thou  wilt  inflame, 
How  coldly  those  impediments  stand  forth 
Of  Wealth,  of  filial  Fear,  Law,  Kindred,  Fame  ? 
Love's  arms  are  Peace,  'gainst  rule,  'gainst  sense,  'gainst 

shame ; 
And  sweetens,  in  the  suffering  pangs  it  bears, 
The  Aloes  of  all  forces,  shocks,  and  fears. 

Eube*—  Byron. 
r)UIlS  too  the  Glance  none  saw  beside ; 

The  Smile  none  else  might  understand ; 
The  whisper' d  Thought  of  hearts  allied, 
The  pressure  of  the  thrilling  hand. 

Uobe.  —  Moore. 
'THE  time  I've  lost  in  wooing, 
In  watchiDg  and  pursuing 

The  Light,  that  lies 

In  woman's  Eyes, 
Has  been  my  Heart's  undoing. 
Tho'  Wisdom  oft  has  sought  me, 
I  scorn'd  the  Love  she  brought  me, 

My  only  books 

Were  woman's  looks, 
And  Folly's  all  they've  taught  me. 


316  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF  TRUTH; 

Uobe*  —  Moore. 
T  COULD  have  loved  you — oh  so  well  -, — 
The  dream,  that  wishing  boyhood  knows, 
Is  but  a  bright,  beguiling  Spell, 

Which  only  lives,  while  Passion  glows : 
But,  when  this  early  flush  declines, 

When  the  Heart's  vivid  morning  fleets, 
You  know  not  then  how  close  it  twines 

Round  the  first  kindred  soul  it  meets  ! 
Yes,  yes,  I  could  have  loved,  as  one 

Who,  while  his  youth's  enchantments  fall, 
Finds  something  dear  to  rest  upon, 
Which  pays  him  for  the  Loss  of  all ! 
HClbe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Love's  counsellors  should  fill  the  bores  of  hearing, 
To  the  smothering  of  the  Sense. 

HO  be.  —  Shakspeare. 
Violent  delights  have  violent  ends, 
And  in  their  Triumph  die ;  like  fire  and  powder, 
Which,  as  they  kiss,  consume  :  the  sweetest  Honey 
Is  loathsome  in  his  own  Deliciousness, 
And  in  the  taste  confounds  the  appetite : 
Therefore,  love  moderately ;  long  Love  doth  so, 
Too  swift  arrives  as  tardy  as  too  slow. 

3Lobe.  —  Byron. 
THEN  there  were  Sighs  the  deeper  for  suppression, 

And  stolen  Glances,  sweeter  for  the  theft, 
And  burning  Blushes,  though  for  no  transgression, 
Trembling,  when  met,  and  restlessness  when  left. 

ILcbtf.  —  Moore. 
A  LAS — how  light  a  cause  may  move 

Dissension  between  Hearts  that  love  ! 
Hearts  that  the  world  in  vain  had  tried, 
And  sorrow  but  more  closely  tied; 
That  stood  the  Storm,  when  waves  were  rough, 
Yet  in  a  sunny  hour  fall  off, 
Like  ships  that  have  gone  down  at  sea, 
When  Heaven  was  all  tranquillity. 

ILobe*  —  Prior. 
Love,  well  thou  know'st  no  partnership  allows : 
Cupid  averse  rejects  divided  Vows. 

Hcb£.  — Byron. 
To  me  she  gave  her  Heart,  that  all 
Which  Tyranny  can  ne'er  enthrall. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  317 

Uobe.  —  Byron. 

XTOR  was  all  Love  shut  from  him,  though  his  days 
Of  passion  had  consumed  themselves  to  dust. 

It  is  in  vain  that  we  would  coldly  gaze 

On  such  that  smile  upon  us;  the  Heart  must 
Leap  kindly  back  to  kindness,  though  disgust 

Hath  wean'd  it  from  all  worldlings :  thus  he  felt ; 
For  there  was  soft  Remembrance,  and  sweet  trust, 

In  one  fond  Breast,  to  which  his  own  would  melt, 

And  in  its  tenderer  hour  on  that  his  Bosom  dwelt. 

Hob**—  Byron. 

"ftf  ONE  are  all  evil — quickening  round  his  heart, 

One  softer  feeling  would  not  yet  depart ; 
Oft  could  he  sneer  at  others  as  beguiled 
By  Passions  worthy  of  a  fool  or  child; 
Yet  'gainst  that  passion  vainly  still  he  strove. 
And  even  in  him  it  asks  the  name  of  Love  ! 
Yes,  it  was  Love — unchangeable — unchanged, 
Felt  but  for  one  from  whom  he  never  ranged ; 
Though  fairest  captives  daily  met  his  eye, 
He  shunn'd,  not  sought,  but  coldly  pass'd  them  by ; 
Though  many  a  Beauty  droop'd  in  prison'd  bower, 
None  ever  sooth'd  his  most  unguarded  hour. 
Yes — it  was  Love — if  thoughts  of  tenderness, 
Tried  in  temptation  strengthened  by  distress, 
Unmoved  by  Absence,  firm  in  every  clime, 
And  yet — Oh  more  than  all !  untired  by  time ; 
Which  nor  defeated  hope,  nor  baffled  wile, 
Could  render  sullen  were  she  near  to  smile ; 
Nor  rage  could  fire,  nor  sickness  fret  to  vent 
On  her  one  murmur  of  his  discontent ; 
Which  still  would  meet  with  joy,  with  calmness  part, 
Lest  that  his  look  of  grief  should  reach  her  heart ; 
Which  naught  removed,  nor  menaced  to  remove — • 
If  there  be  Love  in  mortals — this  was  Love  ! 

Ho  be,  —  Higgons. 
T  OVE  is  that  passion  which  refines  the  Soul ; 

First  made  men  Heroes,  and  those  heroes  Gods; 
Its  genial  fires  inform  the  sluggish  mass ; 
The  rugged  soften,  and  the  tim'rous  warm ; 
Gives  wit  to  Fools,  and  manners  to  the  Clown : 
The  rest  of  life  is  an  ignoble  calm ; 
The  soul  unmoved  by  Love's  inspiring  breath, 
Like  lazy  waters  stagnates  and  corrupts. 


318  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 

yLtiKZ.  —  Dryden. 
T  FIND  she  loves  him  much  because  she  hides  it. 

Love  teaches  cunning  even  to  Innocence ; 
And  where  he  gets  possession,  his  first  work 
Is  to  dig  deep  within  a  Heart,  and  there 
Lie  hid,  and  like  a  Miser  in  the  dark, 
To  feast  alone. 

%^t.—Dryden. 
'THERE  is  no  satiety  of  Love  in  thee ; 

Enjoy'd,  thou  still  art  new  :  Perpetual  spring 
Is  in  thy  arms ;  the  ripen'd  Fruit  but  falls, 
And  blossoms  rise  to  fill  its  empty  place, 
And  I  grow  rich  by  giving. 

Hobe.  —  Otway. 
T  HAD  so  fix'd  my  Heart  upon  her, 

That  wheresoe'er  I  framed  a  scheme  of  life 
For  time  to  come,  she  was  my  only  joy, 
With  which  I  used  to  sweeten  future  cares : 
I  fancied  Pleasures,  none  but  one  who  loves 
And  doats  as  I  did,  can  imagine  like  them. 

Uobe,  —Dryden. 
T  OVE  gives  Esteem,  and  then  he  gives  Desert; 

He  either  finds  equality,  or  makes  it : 
Like  Death,  he  knows  no  difference  in  degrees, 
But  planes  and  levels  all. 

Hobe. — Addison. 
T  OVE  is  not  to  be  reason' d  down,  or  lost 

In  high  Ambition,  or  a  thirst  of  Greatness  : 
'Tis  second  life,  it  grows  into  the  soul. 
Warms  every  vein,  and  beats  in  every  pulse : 
I  feel  it  here :  my  Resolution  melts. 

flobe. — Addison. 
When  Love's  well-timed,  'tis  not  a  fault  to  love  : 
The  Strong,  the  Brave)  the  Virtuous,  and  the  Wise, 
Sink  in  the  soft  captivity  together. 

Eobe»  —Milton. 
TN  loving  thou  dost  well,  in  passion  not, 

Wherein  true  Love  consists  not ;  Love  refines 
The  thoughts,  and  Heart  enlarges,  hath  its  seat 
In  Reason,  and  is  judicious,  is  the  scale 
By  which  to  Heavenly  love  thou  may'st  ascend, 
Not  sunk  in  carnal  Pleasure,  for  which  cause 
Among  the  beasts  no  mate  for  thee  was  found. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  319 


IrObe.—  Byron. 

All  the  stars  of  Heaven, 
The  deep  blue  noon  of  night,  lit  by  an  orb 
Which  looks  a  spirit,  or  a  spirit's  world — 
The  hues  of  Twilight — the  sun's  gorgeous  coming — 
His  setting  indescribable,  which  fills 
My  eyes  with  pleasant  tears  as  I  behold 
Him  sink,  and  feel  my  heart  float  softly  with  him 
Along  the  western  paradise  of  clouds — 
The  forest  shade — the  green  bough — the  bird's  voice, 
The  vesper  bird's,  which  seems  to  sing  of  love, 
And  mingles  with  the  song  of  Cherubim, 
As  the  day  closes  over  Eden's  walls ; — 
All  these  are  nothing,  to  my  eyes  and  Heart 

Like 's  face  :  I  turn  from  Earth  to  Heaven 

To  gaze  on  it. 

?L0be.—  Young. 
r\H  the  soft  commerce  !  Oh  the  tender  ties, 
Close-twisted  with  the  fibres  of  the  heart ! 
Which,  broken,  break  them  \  and  drain  ofi"  the  Soul 
Of  human  Joy;  and  make  it  pain  to  live — 
And  is  it  then  to  live  ?  when  such  Friends  part, 
'Tis  the  survivor  dies. 

IlO be.—  Mrs.  Tight. 

(~)H,  who  art  thou  who  darest  of  Love  complain? 
He  is  a  gentle  Spirit  and  injures  none  ! 

His  foes  are  ours ;  from  them  the  bitter  Pain, 

The  keen  deep  Anguish,  the  heart-rending  Groan, 
Which  in  his  milder  reign  are  never  known. 

His  Fears  are  softer  than  the  April  showers, 
White-handed  Innocence  supports  his  throne ; 

His  Sighs  are  sweet  as  breath  of  earliest  Flowers, 

Affection  guides  his  steps,  and  Peace  protects  his  bowers. 

Hobe.  — Spenser. 
"YyONDER  it  is  to  see  in  diverse  mindes 

How  diversely  Love  doth  his  pageaunts  play, 
And  shewes  his  Powre  in  variable  kindes  : 
The  baser  wit,  whose  ydle  thoughts  alway 
Are  wont  to  cleave  unto  the  lowly  clay, 
It  stirreth  up  to  sensuall  Desire 
And  in  lewd  slouth  to  waste  his  carelesse  day ; 
But  in  brave  sprite  it  kindles  goodly  fire, 
That  to  all  high  Desert  and  Honour  doth  aspire 
2C 


320  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Uobe.  —  Lord  Lyttelton. 
None  without  Hope  e'er  loved  tbe  brightest  fair; 
But  Love  can  hope  where  Reason  would  despair. 

Hob*,— Byron. 

"VES,  Love  indeed  is  light  from  Heaven, 

A  spark  of  that  immortal  fire 
With  Angels  shared,  by  Alia  given, 

To  lift  from  Earth  our  low  desire. 
Devotion  wafts  the  mind  above, 

But  Heaven  itself  descends  in  Love ; 
A  feeling  from  the  Godhead  caught, 

To  wean  from  self  each  sordid  thought  \ 
A  ray  of  Him  who  form'd  the  whole ; 

A  glory  circling  round  the  Soul ! 

Uobe.  —  Spenser. 

"VT  AUGHT  under  heaven  so  strongly  doth  allure 
The  sence  of  man  and  all  his  minde  possesse, 

As  Beautie's  lovely  baite,  that  doth  procure 
Great  Warriours  oft  their  rigour  to  represse, 
And  mighty  hands  to  forget  their  Manlinesse, 

Drawne  with  the  powre  of  an  heart-robbing  eye, 
And  wrapt  in  fetters  of  a  golden  Tresse, 

That  can  with  melting  pleasaunce  mollifye 

Their  harden'd  Hearts  enured  to  bloud  and  cruelty. 

ft  0  be,  —  Young. 
Art  thou  not  dearer  to  my  eyes  than  light  ? 
Dost  thou  not  circulate  thro'  all  my  veins, 
Mingle  with  Life,  and  form  my  very  Soul  ? 

Uobe.—  Byron. 
C\  LOVE  !  what  is  it  in  this  world  of  ours 

Which  makes  it  fatal  to  be  loved  ?  Ah,  why 
With  cypress  branches  hast  thou  wreathed  thy  bowers, 
And  made  thy  best  interpreter  a  sigh  ? 

ILobe*  —  Spenser. 

(TJ.REAT  enimy  to  it,  and  to  all  the  rest 
That  in  the  Gardin  of  Adonis  springs, 

Is  wicked  Time,  who  with  his  scyth  addrest, 

Does  mow  the  flowring  herbes  and  goodly  things, 
And  all  their  glory  to  the  ground  downe  flings, 

Where  they  do  wither,  and  are  fowly  mard : 
He  flyes  about,  and  with  his  flaggy  wings 

Beates  downe  both  Leaves  and  Buds  without  regard 

Ne  ever  pitty  may  relent  his  Malice  hard. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  321 

?L0be.  —  Young. 
"\XrHO  never  Loved  ne'er  suffered ;  he  feels  nothing, 

Who  nothing  feels  but  for  himself  alone ; 
And  when  we  feel  for  others,  Reason  reels 
O'erloaded,  from  her  path,  and  Man  runs  mad. 

Uobe.  —  Spenser. 
'TRUE  he  it  said,  whatever  man  it  sayd, 

That  Love  with  Gall  and  Hony  doth  abound ; 
But  if  the  one  be  with  the  other  wayd, 
For  every  dram  of  Hony  therein  found 
A  pound  of  Gall  doth  over  it  redound. 

HO  be.  —  Spenser. 

rTHE  joyes  of  Love,  if  they  should  ever  last 
Without  affliction  or  Disquietnesse, 

That  worldly  chances  do  among  them  cast, 
Would  be  on  Earth  too  great  a  blessednesse 
Liker  to  Heaven  than  mortal  wretchednesse ; 

Therefore  the  winged  God,  to  let  men  weet 
That  here  on  Earth  is  no  sure  happinesse, 

A  thousand  sowres  hath  tempted  with  one  sweet, 

To  make  it  seem  more  deare  and  dainty,  as  is  meet. 

Uube.—  Butter. 
"POR  what  can  earth  produce,  but  Love 

To  represent  the  joys  above  ? 
Or  who  but  lovers  can  converse, 
Like  Angels,  by  the  eye  discourse  ? 
Address  and  compliment  by  vision  j 
Make  Love  and  court  by  Intuition. 

Uobe.  —  Prior. 
f\  MIGHTY  Love  !  from  thy  unbounded  power 

How  shall  the  human  bosom  rest  secure  ? 
How  shall  our  thought  avoid  the  various  snare  ? 
Or  wisdom  to  our  caution'd  Soul  declare 
The  different  shapes  thou  pleasest  to  employ, 
When  bent  to  hurt,  and  certain  to  destroy  ? 

Uobe.  —  Young. 

Not  all  the  pride  of  Beauty ; 
Those  eyes,  that  tell  us  what  the  Sun  is  made  of; 
Those  lips,  whose  touch  is  to  be  bought  with  Life ; 
Those  hills  of  driven  snow,  which  seen  are  felt : 
All  these  possest  are  naught,  but  as  they  are 
The  proof,  the  substance  of  an  inward  passion, 
And  the  rich  plunder  of  a  taken  Heart. 
21 


3*22  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

ILobe,  —  Young. 
TF  Love  were  endless,  Men  were  Gods;  'tis  that 

Does  counterbalance  travail,  danger,  pain, — 
'Tis  Heaven's  expedient  to  make  mortals  bear 
The  light,  and  cheat  them  of  the  peaceful  Grave. 

ILobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
'THE  more  thou  dam'st  it  up,  the  more  it  burns; 
The  current,  that  with  gentle  murmur  glides, 
Thou  know'st,  being  stopp'd,  impatiently  doth  rage ; 
But,  when  his  fair  course  is  not  hinder'd, 
He  makes  sweet  Music  with  the  enamell'd  stones, 
Giving  a  gentle  kiss  to  every  sedge 
He  overtaketh  in  his  Pilgrimage. 

It0b$4  —  Shakspeare. 
OH  how  this  spring  of  Love  resembleth 

The  uncertain  Glory  of  an  April  day ; 
Which  now  shows  all  the  beauty  of  the  Sun, 
And  by  and  by  a  Cloud  takes  all  away  ! 

Hob?*  —  Moore. 
(")H  magic  of  Love  !  unembellish'd  by  you, 

Has  the  garden  a  blush  or  the  herbage  a  hue  ? 
Or  blooms  there  a  prospect  in  Nature  or  Art, 
Like  the  vista  that  shines  through  the  eye  to  the  Heart  ? 

3Lobe*  —  Scott. 

TN  peace,  Love  tunes  the  shepherd's  reed; 
In  War,  he  mounts  the  warrior's  steed; 
In  halls,  in  gay  attire  is  seen ; 
In  hamlets,  dances  on  the  green. 
Love  rules  the  Court,  the  Camp,  the  Grove, 
And  Men  below,  and  Saints  above; 
For  Love  is  Heaven,  and  Heaven  is  Love. 

Uobe,  —  Scott. 

'TRUE  Love's  the  gift  which  God  hath  given 

To  man  alone  beneath  the  Heaven  ! 
It  is  not  Fantasy's  hot  fire, 

Whose  wishes,  soon  as  granted,  fly; 
It  liveth  not  in  fierce  Desire, 

With  dead  Desire  it  doth  not  die ; 
It  is  the  secret  Sympathy, 
The  Silver  link,  the  Silken  tie, 
Which  Heart  to  Heart,  and  Mind  to  Mind, 
In  Body  and  in  Soul  can  bind. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  323 

ILobe.  —  Burns. 

OH  happy  Love  !  where  Love  like  this  is  found  ! 
Oh  heartfelt  raptures  !  Bliss  beyond  compare  ! 

I've  paced  much  this  weary  mortal  round, 
And  sage  Experience  bids  me  this  declare — 
"If  Heaven  a  draught  of  heavenly  Pleasure  spare, 

One  cordial  in  this  melancholy  vale, 

'Tis  when  a  youthful,  loving,  modest  pair, 

In  other's  arms  breathe  out  the  tender  tale, 

Beneath  the  milk-white  Thorn  that  scents  the  evening  gale." 

Eobe.—  Prior. 
/")H  impotent  estate  of  human  life! 

Where  Hope  and  Fear  maintain  eternal  strife ; 
Where  fleeting  Joy  does  lasting  Doubt  inspire ; 
And  most  we  question  what  we  most  desire  ! 
Among  thy  various  gifts,  great  Heaven,  bestow 
Our  cup  of  Love  unmix'd  ;  forbear  to  throw 
Bitter  ingredients  in ;  nor  pall  the  draught 
With  nauseous  grief:  for  our  ill-judging  thought 
Hardly  enjoys  the  pleasurable  taste; 
Or  deem'd  it  not  sincere;  or  fears  it  cannot  last. 

Uobe. — Byron. 
T  OVE  bears  within  its  breast  the  very  germ 

Of  change  ;  and  how  should  this  be  otherwise  ? 
That  violent  things  more  quickly  fiud  a  term 

Is  shown  through  Nature's  whole  analogies : 
And  how  should  the  most  fierce  of  all  be  firm  ? 

Would  you  have  endless  Lightning  in  the  skies? 
Methinks  Love's  very  title  says  enough  : 
How  should  "  the  tender  passion"  e'er  be  tough  f 

HO  be*  —  Spenser. 
"POR  Love  is  a  celestial  Harmony 

Of  likely  hearts  composed  of  stars'  consent, 
Which  join  together  in  sweet  Sympathy, 

To  worke  each  other's  joy  and  true  consent, 
Which  they  have  harbour'd  since  their  first  descent 
Out  of  their  heavenly  bowres,  where  they  did  see 
And  know  each  other  here  beloved  to  he. 

itobc.  — Joanna  Baillie. 
Fain  would  I  speak  the  thoughts  I  bear  to  thee, 
But  they  do  choke  and  flutter  in  my  throat, 
And  make  me  like  a  Child. 
2c2 


324 


ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 


Hobf; —  BuOer. 

T  OVE  is  a  fire,  that  burns  and  sparkles 

In  men  as  nat' rally  as  in  charcoals, 
Which  sooty  Chemists  stop  in  holes 
When  out  of  wood  they  extract  coals  : 
So  Lovers  should  their  passion  choke, 
That  though  they  burn,  they  may  not  smoke. 

Hobe.  —  Spenser. 
T  OVE  is  life's  End;  an  end  but  never  ending; 
All  joys,  all  sweets,  all  happiness,  awarding  ; 
Love  is  life's  Wealth  (ne'er  spent,  but  ever  spending) 
More  rich  by  giving,  taking  by  discarding, 
Love's  Life's  Reward,  rewarded  in  rewarding  : 
Then  from  thy  wretched  heart  fond  Care  remove : 
Ah!  shouldst  thou  live  but  once  Love's  sweets  to  prove, 
Thou  wilt  not  love  to  live,  unless  thou  live  to  love. 

iLobe.  —  Thomson. 
Those  fond  sensations,  those  enchanting  dreams, 
Which  cheat  a  toiling  World  from  day  to  day, 
And  form  the  whole  of  Happiness  they  know. 

ILobe,  —  Thomson. 
But  sure,  my  friend, 
There  is  a  time  for  Love ;  or  life  were  vile, 
A  tedious  circle  of  unjoyous  days 
With  senseless  hurry  fill'd,  distasteful,  wretched, 
Till  Love  comes  smiling  in,  and  brings  his  sweets, 
His  healing  sweets,  soft  cares,  transporting  joys, 
That  make  the  poor  account  of  Life  complete, 
And  justify  the  Gods. 

HO  be. — Joanna  Baillie. 
r)FT  in  the  watchful  post,  or  weary  march, 

Oft  in  the  nightly  silence  of  my  tent, 
My  fixed  mind  shall  gaze  upon  it  still; 
But  it  will  pass  before  my  Fancy's  eye, 
Like  some  delightful  vision  of  the  Soul, 
To  soothe,  not  trouble  it. 

Hobe.  —  Milton. 

But  now  lead  on  ; 
In  me  is  no  delay ;  with  thee  to  go 
Is  to  stay  here ;  with  thee  here  to  stay, 
Is  to  go  hence  unwilling;  thou  to  me 
Art  all  things  under  Heaven,  all  places  thou. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  325 

HO  be.  —  Thomson. 
T\THY  should  we  kill  the  best  of  passions,  Love  ? 

It  aids  the  Hero,  bids  Ambition  rise 
To  nobler  heights,  inspires  Immortal  deeds, 
Even  softens  brutes,  and  adds  a  Grace  to  Virtue. 

3L()be.  —  Shakspeare. 
T>UT  Love,  first  learned  in  a  lady's  eyes, 

Lives  not  alone  immured  in  the  Brain  : 
But  with  the  motion  of  all  elements, 
Courses  as  swift  as  Thought  in  every  power ; 
And  gives  to  every  power  a  double  power, 
Above  their  functions  and  their  offices. 

irQbe,.—  Swift. 

T  OVE  why  do  we  one  Passion  call, 

When  'tis  a  compound  of  them  all  ? 
Where  hot  and  cold,  where  sharp  and  sweet, 
In  all  their  equipages  meet ; 
Where  Pleasures  mix'd  with  Pains  appear, 
Sorrow  with  Joy,  and  Hope  with  Fear. 

Eobe.—  Byron. 
The  war  of  elements  no  fears  impart 
To  Love,  whose  deadliest  bane  is  Human  art : 
There  lie  the  only  Rocks  our  course  can  check. 

Hobe.—  Prior. 
LANTASTIC  Tyrant  of  the  amorous  heart, 

How  hard  thy  Yoke  !  how  cruel  is  thy  dart  I 
Those  'scape  thy  Anger  who  refuse  thy  sway, 
And  those  are  punished  most  who  most  obey. 

Hobe.  —  Spenser. 
C1UCH  is  the  powre  of  that  sweet  Passion, 

That  it  all  sordid  baseness  doth  expel, 
And  the  refined  mind  doth  newly  fashion 
Unto  a  fairer  form,  which  now  doth  dwell 
In  his  high  Thought,  that  would  itself  excel, 
Which  he  beholding  still  with  constant  Sight, 
Admires  the  Mirrour  of  so  heavenly  light. 

Uobe.  —  Moore. 
T\^HY,  the  World  are  all  thinking  about  it, 

And  as  for  myself,  I  can  swear, 
If  I  fancied  that  Heaven  were  without  it, 
I'd  scarce  feel  a  wish  to  go  there. 


326  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

IrObe*  —  Shakspeare. 

The  blood  of  youth  burns  not  with  such  excess, 
As  Gravity's  revolt  to  Wantonness. 

ILobe*  —  Fri&r. 

COFT  Love,  spontaneous  tree,  its  parted  root 

Must  from  two  Hearts  with  equal  vigour  shoot : 
Whilst  each  delighted  and  delighting  gives 
The  pleasing  ecstasy  which  each  receives  \ 
Cherish' d  with  Hope,  and  fed  with  Joy  it  grows ; 
Its  cheerful  buds  their  opening  bloom  disclose, 
And  round  the  happy  soil  diffusive  odour  flows. 
If  angry  Fate  that  mutual  care  denies, 
The  fading  plant  bewails  its  due  supplies ; 
Wild  with  Despair,  or  sick  with  Grief,  it  dies. 

UOue*  —  Mrs.  Tighe. 
OH  !  most  adored  !  Oh  !  most  regretted  Love  ! 

Oh  !  joys  that  never  must  again  be  mine, 
And  thou,  lost  hope,  farewell — vainly  I  rove, 

For  never  shall  I  reach  that  land  divine. 

Nor  ever  shall  thy  Beams  celestial  shine 
Again  upon  my  sad  unheeded  way ! 

Oh  !  let  me  here  with  Life  my  woes  resign, 
Or  in  this  glomy  den  for  ever  stay, 
And  shun  the  scornful  World,  nor  see  detested  day. 

ILobe*  —  Scott. 
TT  was  but  with  that  dawning  Morn 

That  Roderick  Dhu  had  proudly  sworn 
To  drown  his  Love  in  war's  wild  roar, 
Nor  think  of  Ellen  Douglas  more  ; 
But  he  who  stems  a  Stream  with  Sand, 
And  fetters  Flame  with  flaxen  band, 
Has  yet  a  harder  task  to  prove — 
By  firm  Resolve  to  conquer  Love  ! 

Uobe,  —  Bijron. 

Love  will  find  its  way 
Through  paths  where  Wolves  would  fear  to  prey, 
And  if  it  dares  enough,  'twere  hard 
If  passion  met  not  some  reward. 

ltd  be.  —  Shakspeare. 
Methinks,  I  feel  this  Youth's  perfections, 
With  an  invisible  and  subtle  stealth, 
To  creep  in  at  mine  Eyes.     Well,  let  it  be. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  327 

HO  be Spenser. 

THE  gnawing  Envy,  the  heart-fretting  Fear, 

The  vain  surmises,  the  distrustful  shows, 
The  false  reports  that  flying  tales  do  bear, 

The  Doubts,  the  dangers,  the  delays,  the  Woes, 
The  feigned  Friends,  the  unassured  foes, 
With  thousands  more  than  any  tongue  can  tell, 
Do  make  a  Lover  s  life  a  wretch's  Hell. 

Uobe.  —  Aaron  Hill. 
THERE  are,  in  Love,  the  extremes  of  touch'd  Desire; 

The  noblest  brightness  !  or  the  coarsest  Fire  ! 
In  vulgar  bosoms  vulgar  wishes  move ; 
Nature  guides  choice,  and  as  men  think  they  love. 
In  the  loose  Passion  men  profane  the  name, 
Mistake  the  purpose,  and  pollute  the  Flame  : 
In  nobler  bosoms  Friendship's  form  it  takes, 
And  sex  alone  the  lovely  difference  makes. 

Hob?.—  Peter  Pindar. 
T7CONOMY  in  Love  is  peace  to  nature, 

Much  like  Economy  in  worldly  matter : 
We  should  be  prudent,  never  live  too  fast; 
Profusion  will  not,  cannot  always  last. 

ILobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Even  in  so  short  a  space,  my  woman's  heart 
Grossly  grew  captive  to  his  Honey  Words, 
And  proved  the  subject  of  mine  own  soul's  Curse 

Uobe.  _  Goldsmith. 
A  ND  Love  is  still  an  emptier  sound, 

The  modern  fair  one's  jest : 
On  Earth  unseen,  or  only  found 
To  warm  the  Turtle's  nest. 

?iobe.  —  Shakspeare. 
T  NEVER  sued  to  Friend  nor  enemy; 

My  tongue  could  never  learn  sweet  soothing  word ; 
But  now  thy  beauty  is  proposed  my  fee, 
My  proud  Heart  sues,  and  prompts  my  Tongue  to  speak 

Uobe. —  Cowley. 
J^  MIGHTY  Pain  to  Love  it  is, 

And  'tis  a  Pain  that  Pain  to  miss; 
But  of  all  Pains,  the  greatest  Pain 
It  is  to  Love,  and  Love  in  vain. 


528  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

iLobe,  —  Thomson.       • 
"INHERE  lives  the  man  (if  such  a  man  there  be) 

In  idle  Wilderness,  or  Desert  drear, 
To  Beauty's  sacred  power  an  enemy  ? 

Let  foul  fiends  harrow  him;  I'll  drop  no  tear. 
I  deem  that  carl  by  Beauty's  power  unmoved 
Hated  of  Heaven,  of  none  but  Hell  approved; 
Oh  may  he  never  Love,  Oh  never  be  beloved ! 

Uobe.  —  Dryden. 
Fool,  not  to  know,  that  Love  endures  no  tie, 
And  Jove  but  laughs  at  lovers'  perjury. 

Uobe.  —  Johnson. 
nPIRED  with  vain  Joys,  and  false  alarms, 

With  mental  and  corporeal  Strife, 
Snatch  me,  my  Stella,  to  thy  arms, 
And  screen  me  from  the  ills  of  Life. 

Uobe,  —  Shenstone. 
A  H  !  Love  every  Hope  can  inspire ; 

It  banishes  Wisdom  the  while : 
And  the  lip  of  the  nymph  we  admire 
Seems  for  ever  adorn'd  with  a  Smile. 

Uobe.  —  Spenser. 
Ne  may  Love  be  compeld  to  maistery; 
Fo  soone  as  maistery  comes,  sweet  Love  anone 
Taketh  his  nimble  Winges,  and  soone  away  is  gone. 

H(lb0.  — Shakspeare. 
Love  is  full  of  unbefitting  strains ; 
All  wanton  as  a  Child,  skipping,  and  vain ; 
Form'd  by  the  eye,  and  therefore  like  the  Eye, 
Full  of  strange  shapes,  of  Habits,  and  of  forms. 

ItObtf,  — Johnson. 
T  ET  us  now,  in  whisper'd  Joy 

Evening's  silent  hours  employ  : 
Silence  best,  and  conscious  Shades, 
Please  the  Hearts  that  Love  invades ; 
Other  pleasures  give  them  pain, 
Lovers  all  but  Love  disdain. 

Itobe.  —  Moore. 
T  OVE  will  never  bear  enslaving; 

Summer  garments  suit  him  best ; 
Bliss  itself  is  not  worth  having, 
If  we're  by  Compulsion  blest. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  329 

Uobe*  —  Pope. 
OH  happy  state  !  when  Souls  each  other  draw, 

When  Love  is  liberty,  and  Nature  law  : 
All  then  is  full,  possessing  and  possess' d, 
No  craving  void  left  aching  in  the  breast : 
Even  thought  meets  thought,  ere  from  the  lips  it  part, 
And  each  warm  wish  springs  mutual  from  the  Heart. 

ILobe.  —  Spenser. 
TTUMBLED  with  feare  and  awfull  reverence, 

Before  the  footstoole  of  his  Majestie 
Throwe  thyselfe  downe,  with  trembling  innocence, 
Ne  dare  looke  up  with  corruptible  eye 
On  the  dread  face  of  that  great  Deity, 
For  feare,  lest  if  he  chance  to  look  on  thee, 
Thou  turne  to  nought,  and  quite  confounded  be. 

UOue.  —  Dry  den. 
0  Love  !  thou  sternly  dost  thy  power  maintain, 
And  wilt  not  bear  a  Rival  in  thy  reign, 
Tyrants  and  thee  all  fellowship  disdain. 

Uobe.—  Mrs.  Tighe. 

"Y^THEN  vex'd  by  cares  and  harass'd  by  distress, 

The  storms  of  Fortune  chill  thy  soul  with  dread, 

Let  Love,  consoling  Love  !  still  sweetly  bless, 
And  his  assuasive  balm  benignly  shed : 
His  downy  plumage  o'er  thy  pillow  spread, 

Shall  lull  thy  weeping  Sorrows  to  repose ; 
To  Love  the  tender  heart  hath  ever  fled, 

As  on  its  mother's  breast  the  infant  throws 

Its  sobbing  face,  and  there  in  Sleep  forgets  its  woes 

Unbe.  _  SoutJiey. 
T  OVE'S  holy  flame  for  ever  burneth ; 

From  Heaven  it  came,  to  Heaven  returneth : 
Too  oft  on  earth  a  troubled  guest, 
At  times  deceived,  at  times  opprest, 
It  here  is  tried  and  purified, 
Then  hath  in  Heaven  its  perfect  rest : 
It  sow  :th  here  with  toil  and  care, 
But  the  harvest-time  of  Love  is  there. 

ILobe*  —  Moore. 
'THAT  happy  minglement  of  Hearts, 

Where,  changed  as  chemic  compounds  are, 
Each  with  its  own  Existence  parts, 
To  find  a  new  one,  happier  far  ! 


330  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

ILobe.  —  Mrs.  Tighe. 
OH,  you  for  whom  I  write  !  whose  hearts  can  melt 

At  the  soft  thrilling  Voice  whose  power  you  prove, 
You  know  what  charm  unutterably  felt 

Attends  the  unexpected  voice  of  Love ; 

Above  the  Lyre,  the  lute's  soft  notes  above, 
With  sweet  enchantment  to  the  soul  it  steals, 

And  bears  it  to  Elysium's  happy  grove ) 
You  best  can  tell  the  rapture  Psyche  feels 
When  Love's  Ambrosial  Lip  the  vows  of  Hymen  seals. 

Uube.  —  Scott. 
,  Oh  why  should  man's  success  remove 
The  very  charms  that  wake  his  Love ! 

ILobe*  —  Moore. 
HTO  see  thee  every  day  that  came, 

And  find  thee  every  day  the  same ; 
In  Pleasure's  smile  or  Sorrow's  tear 
The  same  benign,  consoling  Dear ! 
To  meet  thee  early,  leave  thee  late, 
Has  been  so  long  my  bliss,  my  fate, 
That  Life,  without  this  cheering  ray, 
Which  came,  like  Sunshine,  every  day, 
And  all  my  pain,  my  sorrow  chased, 
Is  now  a  lone  and  loveless  waste. 

3L0be.  —  Shakspeare. 
TJIS  soul  is  so  enfetter'd  to  her  Love, 

That  she  may  make,  unmake,  do  what  she  list, 
Even  as  her  appetite  shall  play  the  God 
With  his  weak  function. 

Hflbe.  —  Byron. 

TTE  who  hath  loved  not,  here  would  learn  to  Love, 
And  make  his  Heart  a  spirit;  he  who  knows 

That  tender  mystery,  will  love  the  more, 

For  this  is  Love's  recess,  where  vain  men's  woes 

And  the  world's  waste,  hath  driven  him  far  from  those, 

For  'tis  his  nature  to  advance  or  die ; 

He  stands  not  still,  but  or  decays,  or  grows 

Into  a  boundless  blessing,  which  may  vie 

With  the  Immortal  lights,  in  its  Eternity  ! 

Hube.  —  Lamb. 
Man,  while  he  Loves,  is  never  quite  depraved, 
And  Woman's  triumph  is  a  Lover  saved. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  331 

Hob**—  Moore. 

OH  what,  while  I  could  hear  and  see 

Such  words  and  looks,  was  Pleaven  to  me  ? 
Though  gross  the  air  on  Earth  I  drew, 
'Twas  blessed,  while  she  breathed  it  too; 
Though  dark  the  flowers,  though  dim  the  sky, 
Love  lent  them'Light,  while  she  was  nigh. 

ILobe.  —  Bums. 
TT  warms  me,  it  charms  me, 

To  mention  but  her  Name  : 
It  heats  me,  it  beets  me, 
And  sets  me  a'  on  flame  ! 

Eobe.—  Mrs.  TigTie. 

(~)H !  have  you  never  known  the  silent  charm 
That  undisturb'd  Retirement  yields  the  soul, 

Where  no  intruder  might  your  peace  alarm, 
And  Tenderness  have  wept  without  control, 
While  melting  Fondness  o'er  the  bosom  stole  ? 

Did  Fancy  never,  in  some  lonely  grove, 

Abridge  the  hours  which  must  in  absence  roll  ? 

Those  pensive  Pleasures  did  you  never  prove, 

Oh,  you  have  never  Loved  !  you  know  not  what  is  Love  i 

Uobc,— Addison. 
Why  dost  thou  frown  upon  me  ? 
My  Blood  runs  cold,  my  Heart  forgets  to  heave, 
And  Life  itself  goes  out  at  thy  displeasure  ! 

?Uue.  —  Moore. 
'  'TWAS  but  for  a  moment — and  yet  in  that  time 
She  crowded  th'  impressions  of  many  an  hour  : 
Her  eye  had  a  glow,  like  the  Sun  of  her  clime, 
Which  waked  every  feeling  at  once  into  Flower ! 

IL0ue>  —  Milton. 
CO  cheer'd  he  his  fair  spouse,  and  she  was  chcer'd, 

But  silently  a  gentle  Tear  let  fall 
From  either  eve,  and  wiped  them  with  her  hair  • 
Two  other  precious  drops  that  ready  stood, 
Each  in  their  crystal  sluice,  he  ere  they  fell 
Kiss'd,  as  the  gracious  signs  of  sweet  Remorse 
And  pious  awe,  that  fear'd  to  have  offended. 

H^t.—Dryden. 
Love  is  a  child  that  talks  in  broken  Language, 
Yet  then  he  speaks  most  plain. 
2D 


332  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 

ILobe*— MUon. 

T  OVE,  like  odorous  Zephyr's  grateful  breath, 

Repays  the  Flower  that  sweetness  which  it  borrow'd ; 
Uninjuring,  uninjured,  Lovers  move 
In  their  own  sphere  of  happiness  confest, 
By  mutual  Truth  avoiding  mutual  blame. 

Hob**— Pope. 

CHOULD  at  my  feet  the  world's  great  master  fall, 

Himself,  his  throne,  his  World,  I'd  scorn  them  all : 
Not  Caesar's  Empress  would  I  deign  to  prove ; 
No,  make  me  Mistress  to  the  man  I  love. 

BtSappohmtJ  H^St.— Washington  Irving. 
'THE  Love  of  a  delicate  female  is  always  shy  and  silent.  Even 
when  fortunate,  she  scarcely  breathes  it  to  herself;  but  when 
otherwise,  she  buries  it  in  the  recesses  of  her  bosom,  and  there  lets 
it  cower  and  brood  among  the  ruins  of  her  peace.  She  is  like  some 
tender  tree,  the  pride  and  beauty  of  the  grove  ;  graceful  in  its  form, 
bright  in  its  foliage,  but  with  the  worm  preying  at  its  heart.  We 
find  it  suddenly  withering  when  it  should  be  most  fresh  and  luxu- 
riant. We  see  it  drooping  its  branches  to  the  earth  and  shedding 
leaf  by  leaf;  until,  wasted  and  perished  away,  it  falls  even  in  the 
stillness  of  the  forest;  and  as  we  muse  over  the  beautiful  ruin,  we 
strive  in  vain  to  recollect  the  blast  or  thunderbolt  that  could  have 
smitten  it  with  decay. 

ILOUC  Of  ?®lmte.— Claudian. 

'THE  very  leaves  live  but  to  Love,  and  throughout  the  lofty 
grove  the  happy  trees  have  their  amours :  the  Palm  nodding  to 
the  Palm,  ratifies  their  leagues;  the  Poplar  sighs  for  the  Poplar's 
embrace;  and  the  Platanus  hisses  its  love  to  the  Platanus;  the 
Alder  to  the  Alder. 

ILflbe  Of  tfie  QfiSlflttiS.—  Clarendon. 

'THEY  take  very  unprofitable  pains  who  endeavour  to  persuade 
men  that  they  are  obliged  wholly  to  despise  this  World  and  all 
that  is  in  it,  even  whilst  they  themselves  live  here  :  God  hath  not 
taken  all  that  pains  in  forming  and  framing  and  furnishing  and 
adorning  this  World,  that  they  who  were  made  by  him  to  live  in 
it  should  despise  it ;  it  will  be  well  enough  if  they  do  not  love  it  so 
immoderately,  to  prefer  it  before  him  who  made  it. 

IBitolg  HOUe.  —  Shakspeare. 
I,  an  old  Turtle, 
Will  wing  me  to  some  wither'd  bough,  and  there 
My  Mate,  that's  never  to  be  found  again, 
Lament  till  I  am  lost. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  333 

Uobe  Of  (Eounttj)-  —  Shakspeare. 
THIS  royal  Throne  of  Kings,  this  scepter'd  Isle, 

This  Earth  of  Majesty,  this  seat  of  Mars, 
This  other  Eden,  demi-paradise; 
This  Fortress,  built  by  Nature  for  herself, 
Against  infection,  and  the  hand  of  war; 
This  Happy  breed  of  men,  this  little  world ; 
This  precious  Stone  set  in  the  Silver  Sea, 
Which  serves  it  in  the  office  of  a  wall, 
Or  as  a  moat  defensive  to  a  house, 
Against  the  envy  of  less  happier  lands ; 
This  blessed  plot,  this  Earth,  this  Realm,  this  England, 
Dear  for  her  Reputation  through  the  world. 

Jcel^UOuC,  —  Shakspeare. 
ftlN  of  Self-love  possesseth  all  mine  eye, 

And  all  my  Soul,  and  all  my  every  part ; 
And  for  this  sin  there  is  no  remedy, 
It  is  so  grounded  inward  in  my  Heart. 
Methinks  no  face  so  gracious  is  as  mine, 
No  shape  so  true,  no  Truth  of  such  account ; 
And  for  myself  mine  own  worth  do  define, 
As  I  all  other  in  all  worths  surmount. 
But  when  my  glass  shows  me  myself  indeed, 
Beated  and  chopp'd  with  tann'd  Antiquity, 
Mine  own  Self-love  quite  contrary  I  read, 
Self  so  Self-loving  were  Iniquity. 

ftHEoman'S  Uobe,  —  Washington  Irving. 
lyTAN  is  the  creature  of  interest  and  ambition.  His  nature  leads 
him  forth  into  the  struggle  and  bustle  of  the  world.  Love  is 
but  the  establishment  of  his  early  life,  or  a  song  piped  in  the 
intervals  of  the  acts.  He  seeks  for  fame,  for  fortune,  for  space  in 
the  world's  thought,  and  dominion  over  his  fellow-men.  Bat  a 
woman's  whole  life  is  a  history  of  the  affections.  The  heart  is  her 
world  :  it  is  there  her  ambition  strives  for  empire;  it  is  there  her 
avarice  seeks  for  hidden  treasures.  She  sends  forth  her  sympathies 
on  adventure;  she  embarks  her  whole  soul  iu  the  traffic  of  af- 
fection ;  and  if  shipwrecked,  her  case  is  hopeless — for  it  is  a  bank- 
ruptcy of  the  heart. 

ILOgaltj?.  —  Coicper. 
\\TE  too  are  friends  to  Loyalty.     We  love 

The  King  who  loves  the  Law ;  respects  his  bounds, 
And  reigns  content  within  them.     Him  we  serve 


334  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

Freely  and  with  delight,  who  leaves  us  free. 
But  recollecting  still  that  he  is  Man, 
We  trust  him  not  too  far. 

?lltSt  —  Milton. 
(JAPRICIOUS,  wanton,  bold,  and  brutal  Lust, 

Is  meanly  selfish  ;  when  resisted,  cruel; 
And,  like  the  blast  of  Pestilential  Winds, 
Taints  the  sweet  bloom  of  Nature's  fairest  forms. 

llUSt* —  Spenser. 
A  S  pale  and  wan  as  ashes  was  his  looke, 

His  body  leane  and  meagre  as  a  Rake, 
And  skin  all  wither' d  like  a  dryed  rooke ; 
Thereto  as  cold  and  drery  as  a  Snake, 
That  seem'd  to  tremble  evermore  and  quake. 

EU0t.  —  Milton. 

But  when  Lust, 
By  unchaste  looks,  loose  Gestures,  and  foul  talk, 
But  most  by  lewd  and  lavish  acts  of  Sin, 
Lets  in  defilement  to  the  inward  parts, 
The  Soul  grows  clotted  by  contagion, 
Imbodies,  and  imbrutes,  till  she  quite  lose 
The  divine  Property  of  her  first  being. 

Hl!£t*  —  ShaJcspeare. 
'THE  expense  of  spirit  in  a  waste  of  Shame 

Is  Lust  in  action ;  and  till  action,  Lust 
Is  perjured,  murderous,  bloody,  full  of  blame, 

Savage,  extreme,  rude,  cruel,  not  to  trust; 
Enjoy'd  no  sooner,  but  despised  straight; 

Past  Reason  hunted;  and,  no  sooner  had, 
Past  Reason  hated,  as  a  swallowed  bait, 

On  purpose  laid  to  make  the  taker  mad : 
Mad  in  pursuit,  and  in  possession  so; 

Had,  having,  and  in  quest  to  have,  extreme ; 
A  bliss  in  proof, — and  proved,  a  very  wo ; 

Before,  a  Joy  proposed ;  behind,  a  dream : 
All  this  the  world  well  knows ;  yet  none  knows  well 
To  shun  the  Heaven  that  leads  men  to  this  Hell. 

ILUSt*  —  ShaJcspeare. 
The  flesh  being  proud,  Desire  doth  fight  with  Grace, 
For  there  it  revels,  and  when  that  decays, 
The  guilty  Rebel  for  remission  prays. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  335 

Ulliurg-  —  ShaJespeare. 

Weariness 
Can  snore  upon  the  Flint,  when  restive  Sloth 
Finds  the  Down  pillow  hard. 

ImXUtg*— Johnson. 

CUCH  is  the  Diligence  with  which,  in  countries  completely 
civilized,  one  part  of  mankind  labour  for  another,  that  wants 
are  supplied  faster  than  they  can  be  formed,  and  the  Idle  and 
luxurious  find  Life  stagnate  for  want  of  some  desire  to  keep  it  in 
motion.  This  species  of  Distress  furnishes  a  new  set  of  occupa- 
tions; and  multitudes  are  busied  from  day  to  day  in  finding  the 
Rich  and  the  Fortunate  something  to  do. 

ILjMnCJ.  —  Montaigne. 
A  FTER  a  tongue  has  once  got  the  knack  of  Lying,  'tis  not  to  be 
imagined  how  impossible  almost  it  is  to  reclaim  it.     Whence 
it  comes  to  pass  that  we  see  some  men,  who  are  otherwise  very 
honest,  so  subject  to  this  vice. 

Up  lit  (J.—  Addison. 

Falsehood  and  Fraud  grow  up  in  every  soil, 
The  product  of  all  climes. 

UjMttg.  —  From  the  Latin. 
'THE  first  step  toward  useful  Knowledge,  is  to  be  able  to  detect 
Falsehood. 

?iptng.  —  Montaigne. 
T  YING  is  a  hateful  and  accursed  Vice.     We  are  not  men,  nor 
have  other  tie  upon  one  another,  but  our  word.     If  we  did  but 
discover  the  Horror  and  consequences  of  it,  we  should  pursue  it 
with  Fire  and  Sword,  and  more  justly  than  other  Crimes. 

P&d3mtm.— Byron. 
CHE  look'd  on  many  a  face  with  vacant  Eye, 

On  many  a  token  without  knowing  what; 
She  saw  them  watch  her  without  asking  why, 

And  reck'd  not  who  around  her  pillow  sate; 
Not  speechless  though  she  spoke  not ;  not  a  sigh 

Relieved  her  thoughts ;  dull  silence  and  quick  chat 
Were  tried  in  vain  by  those  who  served ;  she  gave 
No  sign,  save  breath,  of  having  left  the  Grave. 

jBatmcSS.—  Moore. 

This  wretched  brain  gave  way, 
And  I  became  a  Wreck,  at  random  driven 
Without  one  glimpse  of  Reason  or  of  Heaven. 

2d2 


336  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

iftatmCSS.  —  Byron. 

Every  sense 
Had  been  o'erstrung  by  pangs  intense, 
And  each  frail  fibre  of  her  brain 
(As  bow-strings,  when  relax'd  by  rain, 
The  erring  Arrow  launch  aside) 
Sent  forth  her  Thoughts  all  wild  and  wide. 

Wi)Z  £Ba^mt.— Danvin. 
The  obedient  Steel  with  living  instinct  moves, 
And  veers  for  ever  to  the  Pole  it  loves. 

&t)C  iHagnet  —  Byron. 
That  trembling  vassal  of  the  Pole, 
The  feeling  Compass,  Navigation's  soul. 

ffian.  — Cotton. 
AJAN  is  that  compound  Being,  created  to  fill  that  wide  hiatus, 
that  must  otherwise  have  remained  unoccupied,  between  the 
Natural  world  and  the  Spiritual;  and  he  sympathizes  with  the 
one  in  his  death,  and  will  be  associated  with  the  other  by  his  re- 
surrection. Without  another  state,  it  would  be  utterly  impossible 
for  him  to  explain  the  difficulties  of  this :  possessing  Earth,  but 
destined  for  Heaven,  he  forms  the  link  between  two  orders  of 
Being,  and  partakes  much  of  the  grossness  of  the  one,  and  some- 
what of  the  refinement  of  the  other.  Reason,  like  the  magnetic 
influence  imparted  to  iron,  gives  to  matter  properties  and  powers 
which  it  possessed  not  before,  but  without  extending  its  bulk, 
augmenting  its  weight,  or  altering  its  Organization ;  like  that  to 
which  I  have  compared  it,  it  is  visible  only  by  its  effects,  and  per- 
ceptible only  by  its  operations.  Reason,  superadded  to  Man,  gives 
him  peculiar  and  characteristic  views,  Responsibilities,  and  desti- 
nations, exalting  him  above  all  existences  that  are  visible,  but 
which  perish,  and  associating  him  with  those  that  are  invisible, 
but  which  remain.  Reason  is  that  Homeric  and  golden  chain 
descending  from  the  throne  of  God  even  unto  Man,  uniting  Heaven 
with  Earth,  and  Earth  with  Heaven.  For  all  is  connected,  and 
without  a  chasm ;  from  an  Angel  to  an  atom,  all  is  proportion, 
harmony  and  strength. 

j^tan,  —  Cotton. 
IV/TAN,  though  individually  confined  to  a  narrow  spot  of  this 
Globe,  and  limited,  in  his  existence,  to  a  few  courses  of  the 
Sun,  has  nevertheless  an  Imagination  which  no  despotism  can 
control,  and  which,  unceasingly,  seeks  for  the  Author  of  his 
destiny,  through  the  immensity  of  space,  and  the  ever-rolling 
current  of  Ages. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  337 

{Ban.— Pascal 
"XYTHAT  a  chimera  is  Man  !  what  a  confused  Chaos !  what  a 
subject  of  contradiction  !  a  professed  judge  of  all  things,  and 
yet  a  feeble  worm  of  the  Earth  !  the  great  depositary  and  guai  dian 
of  Truth,  and  yet  a  mere  huddle  of  uncertainty  !  the  glory  and  the 
scandal  of  the  Universe. 

iBan.—  Byron. 
Admire,  exult, — despise, — laugh,  weep, — for  here 
There  is  such  matter  for  all  feeling ; — Man  ! 
Thou  pendulum  betwixt  a  smile  and  tear. 

/Han.  —  Tucker. 
'THERE  are  limits  to  the  progress  of  Man's  Animal  Frame  :  it  is 
stationary,  it  declines,  and  is  dissolved ;  but  to  this  progress 
of  Intelligence,  in  ascending  the  scale  of  Knowledge  and  of  Wis- 
dom, there  are  not  any  physical  limits  short  of  the  Universe  itself, 
which  the  happy  mind  aspires  to  know,  and  to  the  order  of  which 
he  would  conform  his  will.  The  animals  are  qualified,  by  their 
organization  and  their  instincts,  for  the  particular  Element  and  the 
circumstances  in  which  they  are  placed,  and  they  are  not  fit  for  any 
other  ;  but  Man,  by  his  intelligent  powers,  is  qualified  for  any 
scene  of  which  the  circumstances  may  be  observed  and  in  which 
the  proprieties  of  conduct  may  be  understood. 

/Hail.  —  Shdkxpeare. 
Dare  do  all  that  may  become  a  man  : 
Who  dares  do  more  is  none,  is  none. 

/Hatt.  —  Shcikspeare. 

TIS  nature  is  too  noble  for  the  World : 

He  would  not  flatter  Neptune  for  his  trident, 
Or  Jove  for  his  power  to  thunder.     His  Heart's  his  mouth  : 
What  his  breast  forges,  that  his  Tongue  must  vent. 

/Hatt.  —  Peter  Pindar. 
THE  mind  of  Man  is  vastly  like  a  hive ; 
His  thoughts  so  busy  ever — all  alive ! 
But  here  the  simile  will  go  no  further; 
For  Bees  are  making  Honey,  one  and  all ; 
Man's  thoughts  are  busy  in  producing  Gall, 
Committing,  as  it  were,  Self-murther. 

j&an.  —  Crahbe. 
In  that  rock  are  shapes  of  shells,  and  forms 
Of  creatures  in  old  Worlds,  of  nameless  worms, 
Whose  generations  lived  and  died  ere  Man, 
A  worm  of  other  class,  to  crawl  began. 

22 


338  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

{Ban.  — Prior. 
"RUT  do  these  worlds  display  their  beams,  or  guide 
Their  orbs,  to  serve  thy  use,  to  please  thy  pride  ? 
Thyself  but  dust,  thy  stature  but  a  span, 
A  moment  thy  duration,  foolish  Man ! 
As  well  may  the  minutest  emmet  say, 
That  Caucasus  was  raised  to  pave  his  way ; 
The  snail,  that  Lebanon's  extended  wood 
Was  destined  only  for  his  walk  and  food ; 
The  vilest  Cockle,  gaping  on  the  coast 
That  rounds  the  ample  seas,  as  well  may  boast, 
The  craggy  rock  projects  above  the  sky, 
That  he  in  safety  at  its  foot  may  lie ; 
And  the  whole  Ocean's  confluent  waters  swell, 
Only  to  quench  his  thirst,  or  move  and  blanch  his  shell. 

£Bm.  —  Young. 
TTOW  poor,  how  rich,  how  abject,  how  august, 

How  complicate,  how  wonderful,  is  Man  ! 
How  passing  wonder  He,  who  made  him  such  ! 
Who  centred  in  our  make  such  strange  extremes! 
From  different  natures  marvellously  mixt, 
Connexion  exquisite  of  distant  Worlds  ! 
Distinguish'd  link  in  Being's  endless  chain  ! 
Midway  from  nothing  to  the  Deity  ! 
A  beam  ethereal,  sullied,  and  absorped ! 
Though  sullied  and  dishonour' d,  still  divine  ! 
Dim  miniature  of  greatness  absolute  ! 
An  heir  of  Glory  !  a  frail  child  of  dust ! 
Helpless  Immortal !  Insect  infinite  ! 
A  Worm  !  a  God  ! 

iftatt.  —  Prior. 
f"JEASE,  Man  of  woman  born,  to  hope  relief 
From  daily  Trouble  and  continued  Grief; 
Thy  hope  of  Joy  deliver  to  the  wind, 
Suppress  thy  passions,  and  prepare  thy  mind ; 
Free  and  familiar  with  Misfortune  grow, 
Be  used  to  Sorrow,  and  inured  to  Woe; 
By  weakening  toil  and  hoary  age  o'ercome, 
See  thy  decrease,  and  hasten  to  thy  Tomb. 

M^n.  — Pope. 
^OT  always  actions  show  the  Man  :  we  find 

Who  does  a  kindness,  is  not  therefore  kind ; 
Perhaps  Prosperity  becalm'd  his  breast, 
Perhaps  the  wind  just  shifted  from  the  east : 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  339 

Not  therefore  humble  he  who  seeks  retreat, 

Pride  guides  his  steps,  and  bids  him  shun  the  great : 

Who  combats  bravely  is  not  therefore  brave, 

He  dreads  a  Death-bed  like  the  meanest  slave  : 

Who  reasons  wisely  is  not  therefore  wise, 

His  pride  in  reasoning,  not  in  acting,  lies. 

iHtftt.  —  Bacon. 
T)EADING  maketh  a  full  Man;  Conference  a  ready  Man ;  and 
Writing  an  exact  Man. 

ffian.  — Prior. 
r^ONDEMN'D  to  sacrifice  his  childish  years 

To  babbling  Ignorance,  and  to  empty  fears ; 
To  pass  the  riper  period  of  his  age, 
Acting  his  part  upon  a  crowded  stage ; 
To  lasting  toils  exposed  and  endless  Cares, 
To  open  dangers,  and  to  secret  snares ; 
To  malice,  which  the  vengeful  Foe  intends, 
And  the  more  dangerous  Love  of  seeming  Friends. 

f&an.  —  Pojye. 
J>EHOLD  the  child,  by  Nature's  kindly  law 
Pleased  with  a  rattle,  tickled  with  a  straw ; 
Some  livelier  plaything  gives  his  Youth  delight, 
A  little  louder,  but  as  empty  quite ; 
Scarfs,  Garters,  Gold  amuse  his  riper  stage  ; 
And  beads  and  prayer-books  are  the  toys  of  age ; 
Pleased  with  this  Bauble  still,  as  that  before ; 
Till  tired  he  sleeps,  and  Life's  poor  play  is  o'er. 

itfan,  —  Pope. 

CEE  him  from  Nature  rising  slow  to  art ! 
To  copy  instinct  then  was  reason's  part : 
Thus  then  to  man  the  voice  of  Nature  spake — 
Go,  from  the  creatures  thy  instructions  take : 
Learn  from  the  Birds  what  food  the  thickets  yield; 
Learn  from  the  Beasts  the  physics  of  the  field; 
Thy  arts  of  building  from  the  Bee  receive ; 
Learn  of  the  Mole  to  plough,  the  Worm  to  weave : 
Learn  of  the  little  Nautilus  to  sail, 
Spread  the  thin  oar,  and  catch  the  driving  Gale. 

iHtltt.  —  Shakspeare. 

However  we  do  praise  ourselves, 
Our  Fancies  are  more  giddy  and  infirm, 
More  longing,  wavering,  sooner  lost  and  won, 
Than  Women's  are. 


340  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

ittatt.—  Young. 
"pATHER  of  Mercies  !  why  from  silent  earth 

Did'st  thou  awake,  and  curse  me  into  birth? 
Tear  me  from  quiet,  ravish  me  from  night, 
And  make  a  thankless  present  of  thy  Light  ? 
Push  into  being  a  reverse  of  thee, 
And  animate  a  Clod  with  Misery  ? 

irEtatt.  —  Spenser. 
GO  greatest  and  most  glorious  thing  on  ground 

May  often  need  the  helpe  of  weaker  hand ; 
So  feeble  is  Man's  state,  and  Life  unsound, 
That  in  assurance  it  may  never  stand, 
Till  it  dissolved  be  from  earthly  Band. 

iHan.  —  Steele. 

A   MAN  that  is  Temperate,  Generous,  Valiant,  Chaste,  Faithful, 

and   Honest,  may,  at  the   same  time,   have   Wit,   Humour, 

Mirth,  Good-breeding,    and    Gallantry.      While    he  exerts  these 

latter  qualities,  twenty  occasions  might  be  invented  to  show  he  is 

master  of  the  other  noble  Virtues. 

£Ban.—  Parnell. 

T  ET  business  vex  him,  Avarice  blind, 

Let  doubt  and  Knowledge  rack  his  mind, 
Let  Errour  act,  Opinion  speak, 
And  Want  afflict,  and  Sickness  break, 
And  Anger  burn,  Dejection  chill, 
And  Joy  distract,  and  Sorrow  kill, 
Till  arm'd  by  Care,  and  taught  to  mow, 
Time  draws  the  long  destructive  blow. 

iHattfjOOU'.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
TTE  is  but  the  counterfeit  of  a  Man,  who  hath  not  the  life  of  a 
11  Man. 

itfanljOOtt.  —  Scott. 
He  turn'd  away — his  Heart  throbb'd  high, 
The  tear  was  bursting  from  his  eye. 

JttattJjOOo'.  —  Scott. 
With  haughty  Laugh  his  head  he  turn'd, 
And  dash'd  away  the  Tear  he  scorn' d. 

JHanfjOOfi.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
I'll  never 
Be  such  a  gostling  to  obey  instinct ;  but  stand, 
As  if  a  Man  we're  Author  of  himself, 
And  knew  no  other  kin. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND   OLD.  341 

j&,mntXB.—  Addison. 

COMPLAISANCE  renders  a  Superior  amiable,  an  Equal  agree- 
able, and  an  Inferior  acceptable.  It  smooths  distinction, 
sweetens  conversation,  and  makes  every  one  in  the  company 
pleased  with  himself.  It  produces  Good  Nature  and  mutual  bene- 
volence, encourages  the  timorous,  soothes  the  turbulent,  humanizes 
the  fierce,  and  distinguishes  a  society  of  civilized  persons  from  a 
confusion  of  savages. 

fi&  tilt  n  r r.S .  —  La  Brvyere. 
A  Man's  worth  is  estimated  in  this  world  according  to  his  Conduct. 

iHait  Iters Steele. 

T  TAKE  it  for  a  rule,  that  the  natural,  and  not  the  acquired  man, 
is  the  companion.  Learning,  wit,  gallantry,  and  Good-breeding 
are  all  but  subordinate  qualities  in  society,  and  are  of  no  value,  but 
as  they  are  subservient  to  Benevolence,  and  tend  to  a  certain  man- 
ner of  being  or  appearing  equal  to  the  rest  of  the  Company. 

iHatttterS.  —  Addison. 
THE  true  art  of  being  agreeable  is  to  appear  well  pleased  with  all 
the  Company,  and  rather  to  seem  well  entertained  with  them, 
than  to  bring  entertainment  to  them.  A  man  thus  disposed,  per- 
haps, may  have  -not  much  Learning,  nor  any  Witj  but  if  he  has 
Common  Sense  and  something  friendly  in  his  behaviour,  it  concili- 
ates men's  minds  more  than  the  brightest  parts  without  this  dispo- 
sition :  it  is  true  indeed  that  we  should  not  dissemble  and  flatter  in 
company ;  but  a  man  may  be  very  agreeable,  strictly  consistent  with 
Truth  and  Sincerity,  by  a  prudent  silence  where  he  cannot  concur, 
and  a  pleasing  assent  where  he  can.  Now  and  then  you  meet  with 
a  person  so  exactly  formed  to  please,  that  he  will  gain  upon  every 
one  that  hears  or  beholds  him ;  this  disposition  is  not  merely  the 
gift  of  Nature,  but  frequently  the  effect  of  much  Knowledge  of  the 
world,  and  a  command  over  the  Passions. 

fHantterS.  —  Shakspeare. 
THOSE  that  are  Good  Manners  at  the  Court  are  as  ridiculous  in 
the  Country,  as  the  Behaviour  of  the  Country  is  most  mockable 
at  the  Court. 

iHanners.  —  Swift. 

TFa  man  makes  me  keep  my  Distance,  the  comfort  is,  he  keeps 
his  at  the  same  time. 

fHannerS.  —  Chesterfield. 
Q.OOD-BREEDING  is  the  result  of  much  Good  Sense,  some 
Good  Nature,  and  a  little  Self-denial  for  the  sake  of  others,  and 
with  a  view  to  obtain  the  same  indulgence  from  them. 


342  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

£&mntX8.  —  Greville. 
Y^U  will,  I  believe,  in  general  ingratiate  yourself  with  others, 
still  less  by  paying  them  too  much  Court  than  too  little. 

£&mntZ8.  —  Chesterfield. 
J^  MAN'S  own  Good-breeding  is  the  best  security  against  other 
people's  Ill-manners. 

fflmttm —  Addison. 

QNE  may  now  know  a  man  that  never  conversed  in  the  world,  by 
his  excess  of  Good-breeding.  A  polite  country  Esquire  shall 
make  you  as  many  bows  in  half  an  hour,  as  would  serve  a  Courtier 
for  a  week.  There  is  infinitely  more  to  do  about  place  and  prece- 
dancy  in  a  meeting  of  Justices'  wives,  than  in  an  assembly  of 
Duchesses. 

JHanttCrS.—  Cumberland. 
rJpHE  happy  gift  of  being  agreeable  seems  to  consist  not  in  one, 
but  in  an  assemblage  of  Talents  tending  to  communicate  delight ; 
and  how  many  are  there,  who,  by  easy  Manners,  sweetness  of  Tem- 
per, and  a  variety  of  other  undefinable  qualities,  possess  the  power 
of  pleasing  without  any  visible  effort,  without  the  aids  of  Wit,  Wis- 
dom, or  Learning,  nay,  as  it  should  seem,  in  their  defiance;  and 
this  without  appearing  even  to  know  that  they  possess  it. 

m  fflannm.  —Addison. 
^HERE  is  no  society  or  conversation  to  be  kept  up  in  the  world 
without  Good-nature,  or  something  which  must  bear  its  appear- 
ance, and  supply  its  place.  For  this  reason  mankind  have  been 
forced  to  invent  a  kind  of  artificial  humanity,  which  is  what  we 
express  by  the  word  Good-breeding. 

fflamm$.—Addiso?i. 

Q-OOD-BREEDING  shows  itself  most,  where  to  an  ordinary  Eye 
it  appears  the  least. 

iftaniters.— Fuller. 

TN  conversation  use  some,  but  not  too  much  Ceremony  :  it  teaches 
others  to  be    courteous  too.     Demeanours  are   commonly  paid 
back  in  their  own  Coin. 

Jtfanners.  —  South. 

I"  HAVE  known   men,  grossly  injured   in   their   affairs,  depart 
pleased,  at  least  silent,  only  because  they  were  injured  in  good 
Language,  ruined  in  Caresses,  and  kissed  while  they  were  struck 
under  the  fifth  Rib. 

i$attnet0,  —  Chesterfield. 
A  N  able    man   shows   his  spirit  by  gentle  Words  and  resolute 
Actions  :  he  is  neither  hot  nor  timid. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  343 

/Banners.—  Fuller. 

T  ET  thy  Carriage  be  friendly,  but  not  foolishly  free  :  An  unwary 
Openness  causeth  Contempt,  but  a  little  Reservedness,  Respect; 
and  handsome  Courtesy,  Kindness. 

/Banners.—  Swift 

(^  OOD  Manners  is  the  art  of  making  those  people  easy  with  whom 
we  converse.      Whoever  makes  the  fewest  persons  uneasy,  is 
the  best  bred  in  the  Company. 

iBanners.— Hume. 

A  MONG  well-bred  people,  a  mutual  Deference  is  affected ;  Con- 
tempt of  others  disguised ;  Authority  concealed ;  attention  given 
to  each  in  his  turn;  and  an  easy  stream  of  conversation  maintained, 
without  vehemence,  without  interruption,  without  eagerness  for 
Victory,  and  without  any  airs  of  superiority. 

/Banners.  —  Goldsmith. 
(CEREMONIES  are  different  in  every  country ;  but  true  Polite- 
ness is  everywhere  the  same.  Ceremonies,  which  take  up  so 
much  of  our  attention,  are  only  artificial  helps  which  Ignorance 
assumes  in  order  to  imitate  Politeness,  which  is  the  result  of  Good 
Sense  and  Good  Nature.  A  person  possessed  of  those  qualities, 
though  he  had  never  seen  a  Court,  is  truly  agreeable ;  and  if  with- 
out them,  would  continue  a  Clown,  though  he  had  been  all  his  life 
a  gentleman  usher. 

/•Banners.  —  Chesterfield. 
QOOD-BREEDING  carries  along  with  it  a  Dignity  that  is  re- 
spected  by  the   most  petulant.     Ill-breeding  invites  and  au 
thorizes  the  Familiarity  of  the  most  timid. 

/Banners.  —  steme. 

TJAIL !  ye  small  sweet  Courtesies  of  life,  for  smooth  do  ye  make 
the  road  of  it,  like  Grace  and  Beauty  which  beget  inclinations 
to  love   at  first  sight;   'tis  ye  who    open    the    door  and  let  the 
stranger  in. 

/Banners.  —  Zimmerman. 
T)0    not   think  that   your   Learning   and  Genius,   your  Wit  or 
Sprightliness,  are  welcome  everywhere.     I  was  once  told  £hat 
my  Company  was  disagreeable  because  I  appeared  so  uncommonly 
happy. 

/Banners.  —  Swift. 

pRIDE,  Ill-nature,  and  want  of  Sense,  are  the  three  great  sources 
of  Ill-manners;  without  some  one  of  these  defects,  no  man  will 
behave  himself  ill  for  want  of  Experience,  or  what,  in  the  language 
of  fools,  is  called  knowing  the  World. 

2E 


344         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

£6lanmx8.-*Pope. 

A  LL  Manners  take  a  tincture  from  our  own, 

Or  come  discolour'd  thro'  our  Passions  shown ; 
Or  Fancy's  beam  enlarges,  multiplies, 
Contracts,  invests,  and  gives  ten  thousand  dyes. 

pdimnm.  — Swift. 

QNE  principal  point  of  Good-breeding  is  to  suit  our  behaviour  to 
the  three  several  degrees  of  men  j  our  Superiors,  our  Equals, 
and  those  below  us. 

fflanVLtXS.  —  Sliakspeare. 
The  sauce  to  meat  is  Ceremony 
(Meeting  were  bare  without  it.) 

fH  aimers  —  Shakspeare. 
He  could  not 
Carry  his  Honours  even ;  whether  pride, 
(Which  out  of  daily  fortune  ever  taints 
The  happy  man ;)  whether  defect  of  Judgment 
(To  fail  in  the  disposing  of  those  chances, 
Whereof  he  was  the  Lord ;)  or  whether  Nature, 
(Not  to  be  other  than  one  thing;  not  moving 
From  th'  cask  to  th/  cushion ;  but  commanding  Peace 
Even  with  the  same  austerity  and  garb 
As  he  controlled  the  War.) 

iHanners.—  Steele. 

T\TE  see  a  world  of  pr  \>s  taken,  and  the  best  years  of  Life  spent 
in  collecting  a  se*  *,f  Thoughts  in  a  college  for  the  conduct 
of  Life,  and,  after  all,  the  man  so  qualified  shall  hesitate  in  his 
speech  to  a  good  suit  of  clothes,  and  want  common  sense  before 
an  agreeable  Woman.  Hence  it  is,  that  Wisdom,  Valour,  Justice, 
and  Learning  cannot  keep  a  man  in  countenance  that  is  possessed 
with  these  excellences,  if  he  wants  that  inferior  art  of  life  and 
behaviour  called  Good-Breeding. 

Manners.  —  La  Bruyere. 
A  LTHOUGH  a  man  may  possess  Virtue,  Talent,  and  Good 
Conduct,  he  may  nevertheless  be  disagreeable.  There  is  a 
certain  fashion  in  Manners,  which  is  too  often  neglected  as  of  no 
consequence,  but  which  frequently  becomes  the  basis  on  which 
the  World  will  form  a  favourable  or  an  unfavourable  opinion  of 
you ;  and  a  little  attention  to  render  them  engaging  and  polished, 
will  prevent  others  from  entertaining  prepossessions  respecting 
you,  which  in  their  consequences  ma}^  operate  greatly  to  your  dis- 
advantage. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  345 

iHattttCrS.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
Grace  is  to  the  Body  what  Good  Sense  is  to  the  Mind. 

f&  annUS.  — Fuller. 
A  S  the  Sword  of  the  best  tempered  metall  is  most  flexible ;  so 
the  truly  generous  are  most  pliant  and  courteous  in  their  Be- 
haviour to  their  inferiors. 

iHannetS.  —Bishop  Middleton. 
Virtue  itself  offends,  when  coupled  with  forbidding  Manners. 

/Banners.—  Coiton. 

A  LWAYS  suspect  a  man  who  affects  great  Softness  of  Manner, 
an  unruffled  Evenness  of  Temper,  and  an  Enunciation  studied, 
slow,  and  deliberate.  These  things  are  all  unnatural,  and  bespeak 
a  degree  of  mental  discipline  into  which  he  that  has  no  purpose  of 
Craft  or  Design  to  answer,  cannot  submit  to  drill  himself.  The 
most  successful  Knaves  are  usually  of  this  description,  as  smooth 
as  Razors  clipped  in  oil,  and  as  sharp.  They  affect  the  innocence  of 
the  Dove,  which  they  have  not,  in  order  to  hide  the  cunning  of  the 
Serpent,  which  they  have. 

/BannCCS.  —  Chester, -field. 
"PREPARE  yourselves  for  the  World,  as  the  athletse  used  to  do 
for  their  exercises;  oil  your  Mind  and  your  Manners,  to  give 
them  the  necessary  suppleness  and  flexibility  j  Strength  alone  will 
not  do. 

/Banners.—  La  Rochefoucauld. 
HTHERE  are  some  persons  on  whom  their  Faults  sit  well,  and 
others  who  are  made  ungraceful  by  their  Good  Qualities. 

/HamterS.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
"^"OTHING  so  much  prevents  our  being  natural  as  the  desire  of 
appearing  so. 

/Banners.  —  Greviiu. 

fJNBECOMING   forwardness    oftener   proceeds  from   Ignorance 
than  Impudence. 

/Banners.  —  Skakspeare. 
A  GE  cannot  wither  her,  nor  Custom  stale 

Her  infinite  variety  :  Other  Women  cloy 
The  appetites  they  feed ;  but  she  makes  hungry, 
Where  most  she  satisfies. 

/Barriacje.  —  Skakspeare. 

The  instances  that  second  Marriage  move 
Are  base  respects  of  Thrift,  but  none  of  Love. 


Lir 


846  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

iHam'age.  —  Thomson. 
TTTITERE  Friendship  full  exerts  her  softest  power, 

Perfect  Esteem  enliven'd  by  Desire 
Ineffable,  and  Sympathy  of  Soul ; 
Thought  meeting  thought,  and  will  preventing  will, 
With  boundless  confidence:  for  naught  but  Love 
Can  answer  Love,  and  render  bliss  secure. 

£&aTtiaQt.— Fuller. 
Take  the  Daughter  of  a  good  Mother. 

JEtatriage,—  Muton. 

TTERE  Love  his  golden  shafts  employs,  here  lights 
His  constant  lamp,  and  waves  his  purple  wings, 
"Reigns  here  and  revels ;  not  in  the  bought  smile 
Of  Harlots,  loveless,  joyless,  unendear'd, 
Casual  fruition ;  nor  in  Court  Amours, 
Mix'd  dance,  or  wanton  mask,  or  midnight  ball, 
Or  serenade,  which  the  starved  Lover  sings 
To  his  proud  Fair,  best  quitted  with  disdain. 

damage.— Johnson. 

TVTARRIAGE  is  the  strictest  tie  of  perpetual  Friendship,  and 
there  can  be  no  Friendship  without  Confidence,  and  no  Confi- 
dence without  Integrity;  and  he  must  expect  to  be  wretched,  who 
pays  to  Beauty,  Riches,  or  Politeness  that  regard  which  only  Virtue 
and  Piety  can  claim. 

fflaXtiaqt.  —  Lord  Rochester. 
"fyrOTHERS  who  force  their  Daughters  into  interested  Marriage, 
are  worse  than  the  Ammonites  who  sacrificed  their  children  to 
Moloch — the  latter  undergoing  a  speedy  death,  the  former  suffering 
years  of  Torture,  but  too  frequently  leading  to  the  same  result 

ifclarriage*  —  Cowper. 

'THOU  art  the  nurse  of  Virtue.     In  thine  arms 

She  smiles,  appearing  as  in  truth  she  is, 
Heaven-born  and  destined  to  the  skies  again. 
Thou  art  not  known  where  Pleasure  is  adored, 
That  reeling  goddess  with  the  zoneless  waist 
And  wand'ring  eye,  still  leaning  on  the  arm 
Of  novelty,  her  fickle,  frail  support ; 
For  thou  art  meek  and  constant,  hating  change, 
And  finding  in  the  calm  of  Truth-tied  Love 
Joy  that  her  stormy  Raptures  never  yield. 

iHatriajje.  —  WUliam  Penn. 
TV"EVER  marry  but  for  Love,  but  see  that  thou  lovest  what  ia 
lovely 


OR,     THINGS    NEW  AND     OLD.  347 

Haarriage.  —  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
"REMEMBER,  that  if  thou  marry  for  Beauty,  thou  bindest  thy- 
self all  thy  Life  for  that  which  perchance  will  neither  last  nor 
please  thee  one  year ;  and  when  thou  hast  it,  it  will  be  to  thee  of 
no  price  at  all ;  for  the  Desire  dicth  when  it  is  attained,  and  the 
Affection  perisheth  when  it  is  satisfied. 

itfarriage.— Byron. 

~pEW — none — find  what  they  love  or  could  have  loved, 

Though  accident,  blind  contact,  and  the  strong 
Necessity  of  loving,  have  removed 

Antipathies — but  to  recur,  ere  long, 

Envenom'd  with  irrevocable  wrong. 

jBarriage.  —  Shakspeare. 

'Tis  not  to  make  me  jealous 
To  say — my  Wife  is  fair,  feeds  well,  loves  company, 
Is  free  of  speech,  sings,  plays,  and  dances  well; 
Where  Virtue  is,  these  are  more  virtuous  : 
Nor  from  mine  own  weak  merits  will  I  draw 
The  smallest  fear  or  doubt  of  her  revolt; 
For  she  had  Eyes,  and  chose  me  :  No, 
I'll  see,  before  I  doubt;  when  I  doubt,  prove ; 
And,  on  the  proof,  there  is  no  more  but  this, — 
Away  at  once  with  Love,  or  Jealousy. 

fHarctagc  —  Cowpcr. 

OH  friendly  to  the  best  pursuits  of  man, 

Friendly  to  Thought,  to  Virtue,  and  to  Peace, 
Domestic  Life  in  rural  leisure  pass'd  ! 
Few  know  thy  value,  and  few  taste  thy  sweets. 

iBarriage.  —  Sir  Thomas  Overbimj. 
AS  good  and  wise ;  so  she  be  fit  for  me, 

That  is,  to  will,  and  not  to  will  the  same ; 
My  wife  is  my  adopted  self,  and  she 

As  me,  to  what  I  love,  must  frame. 
And  when  by  Marriage  both  in  one  concur, 
Woman  converts  to  Man,  not  Man  to  her. 

itfarrtage.— Butler. 

~pOR  Wedlock  without  Love,  some  say, 

Is  but  a  lock  without  a  Key ; 
It  is  a  kind  of  rape  to  marry 
One  that  neglects,  or  cares  not  for  ye ; 
For  what  does  make  it  ravishment, 
But  beins;  against  the  Mind's  consent? 
2e2 


348  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

fflUXXWUt.  — Addison. 

AN  Idol  may  be  undeificd  by  many  accidental  causes.     Marriage* 
in  particular  is  a  kind  of  counter-apotheosis,  or  a  Deification 
inverted.     When  a  man  becomes  familiar  with  his  Gi-oddess,  she 
quickly  sinks  into  a  Woman. 

JHarrtage.  —  Coiton. 

IV/TATRIMONY  is  an  engagement  which  must  last  the  life  of 
one  of  the  parties,  and  there  is.  no  retracting,  vestigia  nulla 
retrorsum  ;  therefore,  to  avoid  all  the  horror  of  a  Repentance  that 
comes  too  late,  men  should  thoroughly  know  the  real  causes  that 
induce  them  to  take  so  important  a  step,  before  they  venture  upon 
it :  do  they  stand  in  need  of  a  Wife,  an  Heiress,  or  a  Nurse ;  is  it 
their  Passions,  their  Wants,  or  their  Infirmities,  that  solicit  them 
to  wed  ?  Are  they  candidates  for  that  happy  state,  propter  opus, 
opes  or  opem  f  according  to  the  epigram.  These  are  questions 
much  more  proper  to  be  proposed  before  men  go  to  the  altar,  than 
after  it ;  they  are  points  which,  well  ascertained,  would  prevent 
many  Disappointments,  often  deplorable,  often  ridiculous,  always 
remediless. 

iftlarriage.—  Justus  Moser. 
T  TRY  to  make  myself  and  all  around  me  agreeable.  It  will  not 
do  to  leave  a  Man  to  himself  till  he  comes  to  you,  to  take  no 
pains  to  attract  him,  or  to  appear  before  him  with  a  long  face.  It 
is  not  so  difficult  as  you  think,  dear  child,  to  behave  to  a  Husband 
so  that  he  shall  remain  for  ever  in  some  measure  a  Husband.  I 
am  an  old  Woman,  but  you  can  still  do  what  you  like;  a  word 
from  you  at  the  right  time  will  not  fail  of  its  effect ;  what  need 
have  you  to  play  the  suffering  Virtue  ?  The  tear  of  a  loving  Girl, 
says  an  old  Book,  is  like  a  Dewdrop  on  the  Rose ;  but  that  on  the 
cheek  of  a  Wife  is  a  drop  of  Poison  to  her  Husband.  Try  to 
appear  cheerful  and  contented,  and  your  husband  will  be  so ;  and 
when  you  have  made  him  happy  you  will  become  so,  not  in  appear- 
ance, but  reality.  The  skill  required  is  not  so  great.  Nothing 
natters  a  man  so  much  as  the  happiness  of  his  Wife :  he  is  always 
proud  of  himself  as  the  source  of  it.  As  soon  as  you  are  cheerful, 
you  will  be  lively  and  alert,  and  every  moment  will  afford  you  an 
opportunity  of  letting  fall  an  agreeable  word.  Your  Education, 
which  gives  you  an  immense  advantage,  will  greatly  assist  you; 
and  your  sensibility  will  become  the  noblest  gift  that  Nature  has 
bestowed  on  you,  when  it  shows  itself  in  affectionate  assiduity,  and 
stamps  on  every  action  a  soft,  kind,  and  tender  Character,  instead 
of  wasting  itself  in  secret  repinings. 

iHarrtagc.  —  odd. 

If  you  wish  to  marry  suitably,  marry  your  Equal. 


OR,     THINGS    NEW  AND    OLD.  349 

iBarCtage.  —  Shakspeare. 

Let  still  the  woman  take 
An  elder  than  herself;  so  wears  she  to  him, 
So  sways  she  level  in  her  Husband's  heart. 

iHatrtage.  —  Skakspeare. 

As  for  my  Wife, 
I  would  you  had  her  Spirit  in  such  another : 
The  third  c'  the  world  is  yours  :  which  with  a  snaffle 
You  may  pace  easy,  but  not  such  a  Wife. 

Jftarriage. —Fuller. 

I N  Marriage,  he  best  bowls  at  the  mark  of  his  own  Contentment, 
who,  besides  the  aim  of  his  own  eye,  is  directed  by  his  Father, 
who  is  to  give  him  the  ground. 

iHarriage,  —  Coiton. 

"\TARRIAGE    is  a  feast  where  the  Grace  is  sometimes    better 
than  the  Dinner. 

fftatriage*  —  Rogers. 

Across  the  threshold  led, 
And  every  Tear  kiss'd  off  as  soon  as  shed, 
His  house  she  enters,  there  to  be  a  Light 
Shining  within  when  all  without  is  night; 
A  guardian-Angel  o'er  his  life  presiding, 
Doubling  his  Pleasure,  and  his  Cares  dividing ! 

ittatriage.—  Fuller. 

TARRES  concealed  are  half  reconciled ;  which  if  generally 
known,  'tis  a  double  task,  to  stop  the  breach  at  home  and  men's 
mouths  abroad.  To  this  end,  a  good  Husband  never  publicly 
reproves  his  Wife.  An  open  reproof  puts  her  to  do  penance 
before  all  that  are  present;  after  which,  many  study  rather  Revenge 
than  Reformation. 

jftlatriage.  —  Thomson. 

What  is  the  World  to  them, 
Its  pomp,  its  pleasure,  and  its  nonsense  all  ? 
Who  in  each  other  clasp  whatever  fair 
High  Fancy  forms,  and  lavish  Hearts  can  wish ; 
Or  on  the  mind,  or  mind-illumined  face  ; 
Truth,  Goodness,  Honour,  Harmony,  and  Love, 
The  richest  bounty  of  indulgent  Heaven. 

/Carriage.—  Milton. 

Let  us  no  more  contend,  nor  blame 
Each  other,  blamed  enough  elsewhere,  but  strive 
Tn  offices  of  Love,  how  we  may  lighten 
Each  other's  burden,  in  our  share  of  Wo<?. 


350  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

itf cmtage.  —  Jean  Paul. 
"J)OX'T  put  on  your  left  stocking  to-morrow  morning;  I  must 
first  mend  a  hole  in  it."  "The  author  of  this  history  hereby 
asserts  that  he  has  often  gone  nearly  out  of  his  Mind  in  con- 
sequence of  such  like  feminine  Interludes.  It  is  in  truth  to  be 
wished  that  the  said  author,  in  case  he  enter  into  the  estate  of 
Matrimony,  may  find  a  woman  to  whom  he  can  read  the  most 
essential  principles  and  dictata  of  Metaphysics  and  Astronomy, 
and  who  will  not,  in  his  most  towering  flights,  cast  up  his  Stock- 
ings at  him.  He  will  however  be  satisfied  if  one  fall  to  his  lot  who 
has  humbler  merits,  but  who  is  capable  of  soaring  with  him  to  a 
certain  height  : — one  on  whose  opened  eyes  and  heart  the  flowery 
Earth  and  beaming  Heavens  strike  not  in  infinitesimals,  but  in 
large  and  towering  masses;  for  whom  the  great  whole  is  something 
more  than  a  Nursery  or  a  Ball-room  ;  one  who,  with  a  feeling  at 
once  tender  and  discriminating,  and  with  a  Heart  at  once  pious 
and  large,  for  ever  improves  the  Man  whom  she  has  wedded. 
This  it  is,  and  no  more,  to  which  the  Author  of  this  history  limits 
his  wishes/' 

JHamage,—  Steele. 

'THE  good  Husband  keeps  his  Wife  in  the  wholesome  ignorance 
of  unnecessary  Secrets.  They  will  not  be  starved  with  the 
ignorance,  who  perchance  may  surfeit  with  the  knowledge  of 
weighty  Counsels,  too  heavy  for  the  weaker  sex  to  bear.  He 
knows  little  who  will  tell  his  Wife  all  he  knows. 

Jftaruage.  —  Lord  Lyttelton. 
"pVEN  in  the  happiest  choice,  where  fav'ring  Heaven 

Has  equal  Love  and  easy  Fortune  given, — 
Think  not,  the  Husband  gain'd,  that  all  is  done ; 
The  prize  of  Happiness  must  still  be  won  : 
And,  oft,  the  careless  find  it  to  their  cost, 
The  Lover  in  the  Husband  may  be  lost ; 
The  Graces  might,  alone,  his  heart  allure ; 
They  and  the  Virtues,  meeting,  must  secure. 

iHarttage.  —  Shakspeare. 
T  AM  ashamed,  that  Women  are  so  simple 

To  offer  War  where  they  should  kueel  for  Peace; 
Or  seek  for  Rule,  Supremacy,  and  Sway, 
When  they  are  bound  to  serve,  love,  and  obey. 

fHatriage.—  From  the  Italian. 
'THE  admiral  of  Castile  said,  that  he  who  marries  a  Wife  and  he 
who  goes  to  War  must  necessarily  submit  to  every  thing  that 
may  happen. 


OR,     THIXGS    NEW   AXD    OLD.  351 

ftlarriatJC—  Anon. 
"DE  sure  you  like  the  Parents  of  the  Girl  you  are  about  to  wed ; 
it  is  almost  as  essential  to  your  future   Happiness  as  to  truly 
love  the  object  of  your  wishes. 

fHarctage.—  Coiton. 

'THAT   alliance  may  be   said   to   have  a  double  tie,  where  the 
Minds  are  united  as  well  as  the  Body,  and  the  union  will  have 
all  its  strength,  when  both  the  links  are  in  perfection  together 

iHacriage.  —  Ben  Jonson. 
He  that  would  have  fine  Guests,  let  him  have  a  fine  Wife. 

iHatriage.  —Prior. 

AND  now  your  matrimonial  Cupid, 

Lash'd  on  by  Time,  grows  tired  and  stupid. 
For  story  and  experience  tell  us 
That  Man  grows  old,  and  woman  jealous. 
Both  would  their  little  ends  secure  : 
He  sighs  for  Freedom,  she  for  Power : 
His  wishes  tend  abroad  to  roam, 
And  her's  to  domineer  at  home. 

fflattia$t.—FuUtr. 

'THE  good  Wife  commandeth  her  Husband,  in  any  equal  matter, 
by  constantly  obeying  him.  It  was  always  observed,  that  what 
the  English  gained  of  the  French  in  battle  by  valour,  the  French 
regained  of  the  English  in  cunning  by  treaties.  So  if  the  Husband 
should  chance  by  his  power  in  his  passion  to  prejudice  his  Wife's 
right,  she  wisely  knoweth,  by  compounding  and  complying,  to 
recover  and  rectify  it  again. 

f&attiaqt.— Steele. 
TT  is  common  to  hear  both  sexes  repine  at  their  change,  relate 
the  Happiness  of  their  earlier  years,  blame  the  Folly  and  Rash- 
ness of  their  own  choice,  and  warn  those  whom  they  see  coming 
into  the  world  against  the  same  precipitance  and  infatuation.  But 
it  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  days  which  they  so  much  wish 
to  call  back,  are  the  days  not  only  of  Celibacy  but  of  Youth,  the 
days  of  novelty  and  improvement,  of  ardour  and  of  Hope,  of  healA 
and  vigour  of  body,  of  Gayety  and  Lightness  of  Heart.  It  is  not 
easy  to  surround  lifr  with  any  circumstances  in  which  Youth  will 
not  be  delightful;  and  I  am  afraid  that  whether  married  or  un- 
married, we  shall  find  the  vestura  of  terrestrial  Existence  more 
heavy  and  cumbrous  the  longer  it  is  worn. 


35*2  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

iHaUtage,  —  Spenser. 
~pROM  that  day  forth,  in  Peace  and  joyous  Bliss 

They  lived  together  long  without  debate ; 
Ne  private  Jarre,  ne  spite  of  Enemies, 

Could  shake  the  safe  assurance  of  their  state. 

ferriage.  —  Terence. 
TT  does  not  appear  essential  that,  in  forming  Matrimonial  Al- 
liances, there  should  be  on  each  side  a  parity  of  Wealth ;  but 
that,  in  Disposition  and  Manners,  they  should  be  alike.     Chastity 
and  Modesty  form  the  best  dowry  a  parent  can  bestow. 

i^larriage.—  Moore. 
gOMETHING,  light  as  air— a  look, 

A  word  unkind  or  wrongly  taken — 
Oh !  Love,  that  tempests  never  shook, 

A  breath,  a  touch  like  this  hath  shaken. 
And  ruder  words  will  soon  rush  in 
To  spread  the  breach  that  words  begin ; 
And  Eyes  forget  the  gentle  ray 
They  wore  in  Courtship's  smiling  day; 
And  Voices  lose  the  tone  that  shed 
A  tenderness  round  all  they  said ; 
Till  fast  declining,  one  by  one, 
The  sweetnesses  of  Love  are  gone, 
And  Hearts,  so  lately  mingled,  seem 
Like  broken  clouds, — or  like  the  stream, 
That  smiling  left  the  Mountain's  brow, 

As  though  its  waters  ne'er  could  sever, 
Yet,  ere  it  reach  the  plain  below, 

Breaks  into  Floods,  that  part  for  ever. 

JKatttage.—  Johnson. 

A/TARRIAGE  is  the  best  state  for  Man  in  general;  and  every 
Man  is  a  worse  Man  in  proportion  as  he  is  unfit  for  the  Mar- 
ried State. 

iftatUage*—  Beattie. 
^"0  Jealousy  their  dawn  of  Love  o'ercast, 

Nor  blasted  were  their  wedded  days  with  Strife ; 
Each  season  look'd  delightful  as  it  past, 
*  To  the  fond  Husband  and  the  faithful  Wife. 

Beyond  the  lowly  vale  of  shepherd  life 
They  never  roam'd  !  secure  beneath  the  storm 

Which  in  Ambition's  lofty  land  is  rife, 
Where  Peace  and  Love  are  canker'd  by  the  worm 
Of  Pride,  each  bud  of  Joy  industrious  to  deform. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  353 

iBarriatJC—  Skalcspeare. 
A  Father 

Is,  at  the  nuptial  of  his  Son,  a  guest 
That  best  becomes  the  table. 

itfarriafie.  —  Plutarch. 
\\ EN  that  marry  Women  very  much  superior  to  themselves,  are 
not  so  truly  Husbands  to  their  Wives,  as  they  are  unawares 
made  Slaves  to  their  Portions. 

ittacrtage.  —  Martial. 

pERPETUAL  Harmony  their  bed  attend, 

And  Venus  still  the  well-match'd  pair  befriend ! 
May  she,  when  Time  has  sunk  him  into  years, 
Love  her  old  man,  and  cherish  his  white  hairs; 
Nor  he  perceive  her  Charms  thro*  age  decay, 
But  think  each  happy  sun  his  Bridal  day  ! 

iftaruage.— miton. 

TT  is  a  less  breach  of  Wedlock  to  part,  with  wise  and  quiet  con- 
sent, betimes,  than  still  to  foil  and  profane  that  Mystery  of  Joy 
and  Union  with  a  polluting  sadness  and  perpetual  distemper. 

marriage.  —  Shahtpeare. 
rriIY  Husband  is  thy  Lord,  thy  life,  thy  keeper, 

Thy  head,  thy  Sovereign  :  one  that  cares  for  thee, 
And  for  thy  maintenance  :  commits  his  body 
To  painful  labour,  both  by  sea  and  land ; 
To  watch  the  night  in  storms,  the  day  in  cold, 
While  thou  liest  warm  at  home,  secure  and  safe, 
And  craves  no  other  Tribute  at  thy  hands, 
But  Love,  fair  Looks,  and  true  Obedience ; 
Too  little  Payment  for  so  great  a  Debt. 

1  ft  axtia$c  — Swift. 

'THE  reason  who  so  few  Marriages  are  happy,  is  because  young 
Ladies  spend  their  time  in  making  Nets,  not  in  making  Cages. 

HJarrtajje.  —  Skalcspeare. 
TTAPPY  in  this,  she  is  not  yet  so  old, 

But  she  may  learn ;  and  happier  than  this, 
She  is  not  bred  so  dull  but  she  can  learn ; 
Happiest  of  all,  is,  that  her  gentle  Spirit 
Commits  itself  to  yours,  to  be  directed. 

ftf  atuage.  —  Simonides. 
Of  earthly  goods  the  best,  is  a  good  Wife ; 
A  bad,  the  bitterest  Curse  of  human  life. 


154  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 


itt  atria  ge.  —  Skakspeare. 
God  the  best  maker  of  all  Marriages. 

JHarriage.—  Seiden. 

lyTABIlIAGrE    is  a  desperate  thing :    the    Frogs  in  iEsop  were 
extremely  wise ;  they  had  a  great  mind  to  some  Water,  but 
they  would  not  leap  into  the  Well,  because  they  could  not  get  out 
again. 

J&arrittge.—  MassUhn. 

"pVERY  effort  is  made  in  forming  Matrimonial  Alliances  to  recon- 
cile matters  relating  to  Fortune,  but  very  little  is  paid  to  the 
Congeniality  of  Dispositions,  or  to  the  Accordance  of  Hearts. 

jrftarriage.  —  MUton. 

TTAIL  Wedded  Love,  mysterious  law,  true  source 

Of  human  offspring,  sole  propriety 
In  Paradise  of  all  things  common  else. 
By  thee  adult'rous  Lust  was  driven  from  men 
Among  the  bestial  herds  to  range  \  by  thee 
Founded  in  Reason,  loyal,  just  and  pure, 
Relations  dear,  and  all  the  Charities 
Of  Father,  Son,  and  Brother  first  were  known. 

IfflauiaQt.  —  Skakspeare. 
IV/rARRIAGrE  is  a  matter  of  more  worth 
Than  to  be  dealt  in  by  attorneyship. 
For  what  is  Wedlock  forced,  but  a  Hell, 
An  age  of  discord  and  continual  Strife  ? 
Whereas  the  contrary  bringeth  forth  Bliss, 
And  is  a  pattern  of  Celestial  Peace. 

JHarriage.  —  Osborne. 
I  PITY  from  my  heart  the  unhappy  Man  who  has  a  bad  Wife. 
She  is  Shackles  on  his  feet,  a  Palsy  to  his  hands,  a  Burden  on 
his  shoulder,  Smoke  to  his  eyes,  Vinegar  to  his  teeth,  a  Thorn  to 
his  side,  a  Dagger  to  his  heart. 

Utariaae.  —  Skakspeare. 

Within  a  month; 
Ere  yet  the  salt  of  most  unrighteous  Tears 
Had  left  the  flushing  of  her  galled  Eyes, 
She  married  : — 0  most  wicked  speed. 

J$  atria  ge.  —  Vanbrugh. 

TF  Idleness  be  the  root  of  all  Evil,  then  Matrimony's  good  for 
something,  for  it  sets  many  a  poor  Woman  to  work. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  355 

/Carriage.  —  Shakspeare. 

Hasty  Marriage  seldom  proveth  well. 

i^latn'atjr Shakspearc. 

Should  all  despair, 
That  have  revolted  Wives,  the  tenth  of  Mankind 
Would  hang  themselves. 

|#arrtafie Futur. 

'PHE  good  Wife  is  nnne  of  our  dainty  dames,  who  love  to  appear 
in  a  variety  of  suits  every  day  new ;  as  if  a  good  gown,  like  a 
stratagem  in  War,  were  to  be  used  but  once.  But  our  good  Wife 
sets  up  a  sail  according  to  the  keel  of  her  husband's  estate ;  and  if 
of  high  Parentage,  she  doth  not  so  remember  what  she  was  by 
birth,  that  she  forgets  what  she  is  by  match. 

iHatriage.  —  Shakspeare. 
Reason,  my  son 

Should  choose  himself  a  Wife;  but  as  good  reason, 
The  Father  (all  whose  joy  is  nothing  else 
But  fair  Posterity)  should  hold  some  counsel 
In  such  a  business. 

iHarriage.  —  Shakspeare. 
She  is  mine  own; 
And  I  as  rich  in  having  such  a  Jewel, 
As  twenty  seas,  if  all  their  sand  were  pearl, 
The  water  Nectar,  and  the  rocks  pure  Gold. 
I  will  be  master  of  what  is  mine  own  : 
She  is  my  Goods,  my  chattels ;  she  is  my  house, 
My  Household-stuff,  my  field,  my  barn, 
My  horse,  my  ox,  my  ass,  my  any  thing; 
And  here  she  stands,  touch  her  whoever  dare; 
I'll  bring  mine  Action  on  the  proudest  he 
That  stops  my  way  in  Padua. 

itf  atTtafle.  —  Shakspeare. 
CUCH  duty  as  the  Subject  owes  the  Prince, 

Even  such  a  Woman  oweth  to  her  Husband : 
And,  when  she's  froward,  peevish,  sullen,  sour, 
And,  not  obedient  to  his  honest  will, 
What  is  she  but  a  foul  contending  Rebel, 
And  graceless  Traitor  to  her  loving  lord  ? 

itfatriage.  —  Fuller. 

THIRST  get  an  absolute  Conquest  over  thyself,  and  then  thou  wilt 
easily  govern  thy  Wife. 

2E 


356  ILLUSTRATIOXS   OF   TRUTH; 

fH  a  triage.  —  Shakspeare. 

A  light  Wife  doth  make  a  heavy  Husband. 

H&amage.— Pamea. 

VET  here  and  there  we  grant  a  gentle  Bride, 
Whose  temper  betters  by  the  father's  side; 
Unlike  the  rest  that  double  human  care, 
Fond  to  relieve,  or  resolute  to  share  : 
Happy  the  Man  whom  thus  his  stars  advance  ! 
The  Curse  is  general,  but  the  Blessing  chance. 

iB atCta  C$e.  —  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
rrHE  best  time  for  Marriage,  will  be  toward  thirty,  for  as  the 
younger  times  are  unfit,  either  to  choose  or  to  govern  a  Wife 
and  family,  so,  if  thou  stay  long,  thou  shalt  hardly  see  the  educa- 
tion of  thy  children,  who,  being  left  to  strangers,  are  in  effect  lost: 
and  better  were  it  to  be  unborn  than  ill-bred  :  for  thereby  thy 
Posterity  shall  either  perish,  or  remain  a  shame  to  thy  Name. 

IHarriagC.  —  Shakspeare. 
^U/TTHIN  the  bond  of  Marriage,  tell  me,  Brutus 

Is  it  excepted,  I  should  know  no  secrets 
That  appertain  to  you  ?  Am  I  yourself 
But,  as  it  were,  on  sort,  or  limitation ; 
To  keep  with  you  at  Meals,  comfort  your  bed, 
And  talk  to  you  sometimes  ?     Dwell  I  but  in  the  suburbs 
Of  your  good  Pleasure  ?     If  it  be  no  more, 
Portia  is  Brutus'  Harlot,  not  his  Wife. 

ftlart.gttoom.  —  Coiton. 

TTE  that  dies  a  Martyr,  proves  that  he  was  not  a  Knave,  but  by 
no  means  that  he  was  not  a  Fool. 

fHattgrtiom.  —  Coiton. 

'TWO  things  are  necessary  to  a  modern  Martyr, — some  to  pity, 
and  some  to  persecute ;  some  to  regret,  and  some  to  roast  him. 

Cije  £&a$UZ.  — Steele. 
TT  is  not  only  paying  wages,  and  giving  commands,  that  consti- 
tutes a  Master  of  a  Family;    but  Prudence,  equal  behaviour, 
with  a  readiness  to  protect  and  cherish  them,  is  what  entitle  a  man 
to  that  character  in  their  very  Hearts  and  Sentiments. 

fHastcts  antf  jcetb a nt$.  — Fuller. 

TF  thou  art  a  Master,  be  sometimes  Blind;  if  a  Servant,  some- 
times Deaf. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD.  357 

/Hatter  vs.  iHanner.  —  win. 

TX  composing,  think  much  more  of  your  Matter  than  your  Manner. 
To  be  sure,  spirit,  grace,  and  dignity  of  manner  are  of  great  im- 
portance both  to  the  speaker  and  writer;  but  of  infinitely  more 
importance  is  the  weight  and  worth  of  matter.  The  fashion  of  the 
times  is  much  changed  since  Thomson  wrote  his  Seasons,  and 
Hervey  his  Meditations.  It  will  no  longer  do  to  fill  the  ear  only 
with  pleasant  sounds,  or  the  fancy  with  fine  images.  The  mind, 
the  understanding,  must  be  filled  with  solid  thought.  The  age  of 
ornament  is  over,  that  of  utility  has  succeeded.  The  "pugnaa 
quam  pompse  aptius"  is  the  order  of  the  day,  and  men  fight  now 
with  clenched  fist,  not  with  open  hand — with  logic,  and  not  with 
rhetoric. 

iHcatts  an*  GfrraceptioiuL— Cotton. 

COME  men  possess  Means  that  are  great,  but  fritter  them  away  in 
the  execution  of  Conceptions  that  are  little;  and  there  are 
others  who  can  form  great  Conceptions,  but  who  attempt  to  carry 
them  into  Execution  with  little  Means.  These  two  descriptions  of 
men  might  succeed  if  united,  but  as  they  are  usually  kept  asunder 
by  Jealousy,  both  fail.  It  is  a  rare  thing  to  find  a  combination  of 
great  Means  and  of  great  Conceptions  in  one  Mind. 

fOLtbitittitj).  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
"JVTINDS    of  moderate  Calibre    ordinarily  condemn    every  thing 
which  is  beyond  their  range. 

/tfctUOCritP.  —  La  Bmycre. 
X\R  meet  with  few  utterly  dull  and  stupid  Souls:  the  Sublime 
and  Transcendent  are  still  fewer;  the  generality  of  Mankind 
stand  between  these  two  extremes :  the  interval  is  filled  with  mul- 
titudes of  ordinary  Geniuses,  but  all  very  useful,  and  the  ornaments 
and  supports  of  the  Commonwealth. 

ftleTHOCCitl?.—  CoUon. 
TITERE  are  circumstances  of  peculiar  Difficulty  and  Danger, 
where  a  Mediocrity  of  Talent  is  the  most  fatal  quantum  that  a 
man  can  possibly  possess.  Had  Charles  the  First,  and  Louis  the 
Sixteenth,  been  more  Wise  or  more  Weak,  more  Firm  or  more 
Yielding,  in  either  case  they  had  both  of  them  saved  their  heads. 

fHelandjOlg.  —  Shakspeare. 
0  Melancholy  ! 
Who  ever  yet  could  sound  thy  bottom  ?  find 
The  ooze,  to  show  what  coast  thy  sluggish  Carrack 
Mi Mit  eas'liest  harbour  in? 

o 


358         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

iHdancfjOlj).  —  Shakspeare. 

T  HAVE  of  late  (but  wherefore  I  know  not,)  lost  all  my  Mirth, 
foregone  all  custom  of  Exercises  :  and,  indeed,  it  goes  soheavilv 
with  my  disposition,  that  this  goodly  frame,  the  Earth,  seems  to 
me  a  sterile  promontory;  this  most  excellent  canopy,  the  Air,  look 
you,  this  brave  o'erhanging  Firmament,  this  majestical  Koof  fretted 
with  golden  Fire,  why  it  appears  no  other  thing  to  me,  than  a  foul 
and  pestilent  congregation  of  Vapours. 

iHemorj).—  Byron. 
T>UT  ever  and  anon  of  griefs  subdued, 

There  comes  a  token  like  a  Scorpion's  sting, 
Scarce  seen  but  with  fresh  bitterness  imbued ; 

And  slight  withal  may  be  the  things  which  bring 

Back  on  the  Heart  the  weight  which  it  would  fling 
Aside  for  ever  :  it  may  be  a  sound — 

A  tone  of  music — summer's  eve — or  spring, 
A  flower — the  wind — the  Ocean — which  shall  wound, 
Striking  the  electric  chain  wherewith  we're  darkly  bound ; 

And  how  and  why  we  know  not,  nor  can  trace 
Home  to  its  cloud  this  Lightning  of  the  Mind, 

But  feel  the  shock  renew'd,  nor  can  efface 
The  blight  and  blackening  which  it  leaves  behind, 
Which  out  of  things  familiar,  undesign'd, 

When  least  we  deem  of  such,  calls  up  to  view 
The  Spectres  whom  no  exorcism  can  bind, 

The  cold — the  changed — perchance  the  dead — anew, 

The  mourn'd,  the  loved,  the  lost — too  many  !  yet  how  few ! 

iftletttOrp.  —  Goldsmith. 
THOU,  like  the  World,  th'  opprest  oppressing, 

Thy  smiles  increase  the  wretch's  Woe ! 
And  he  who  wants  each  other  blessing, 

In  thee  must  ever  find  a  Foe. 

iHnnoq?.  —  Goldsmith. 
Remembrance  wakes  with  all  her  busy  train, 
Swells  at  my  Breast,  and  turns  the  Past  to  pain. 

j3ftcmorg.  —  Byron. 
"RUT  in  that  instant,  o'er  his  Soul 

Winters  of  Memory  seem'd  to  roll, 
And  gather  in  that  drop  of  time 
A  life  of  Pain,  an  age  of  Crime  : 
O'er  him  who  loves,  or  hates,  or  fears, 
Such  moment  pours  the  Grief  of  years. 


OR,     TIIIXGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  359 

itf cntal  3r\Q\iisl).  —  fi!/ro7i. 

l^OR  Pleasures  past  I  do  not  grieve, 

Nor  Perils  gathering  near ; 
My  greatest  G-rief  is  that  I  leave 

No  thing  that  claims  a  Tear. 

iBeittal  EngiUSf).—  Shakspeare. 

Alas,  how  is't  with  you  ? 
That  you  do  bend  your  eye  on  Vacancy, 
And  with  the  incorporal  air  do  hold  discourse  ? 
Forth  at  your  eyes  your  Spirits  wildly  peep; 
And,  as  sleeping  Soldiers  in  the  alarm, 
Your  bedded  hair,  like  Life  in  excrements, 
Starts  up,  and  stands  on  end. 

itfnttal  HnfllUS j.  —  Shakspeare. 

His  flaw'd  Heart, 
(Alack,  too  weak  the  conflict  to  support !) 
'Twixt  two  extremes  of  passion,  Joy  and  Grief, 
Burst  smilingly. 

/Hetttal  HttgUtSfj.  —  Shakspeare. 
"VyHEN  I  would  pray  and  think,  I  think  and  pray 

To  several  subjects  :  Heaven  in  my  mouth, 
As  if  I  did  but  only  chew  His  name; 
And  in  my  Heart,  the  strong  and  swelling  evil 
Of  my  Conception. 

ffitnta  I  .HttgUtSf) .  —  Byron. 
T  FLY,  like  a  Bird  of  the  air, 

In  search  of  a  home  and  a  rest ; 
A  balm  for  the  sickness  of  Care  : 
A  Bliss  for  a  bosom  unblest. 

SB  r n  t  a  I  H n  g u  t sf) . — Milton. 

TJETIRING-  from  the  popular  noise,  I  seek 

This  unfrequented  place  to  find  some  ease, 
Ease  to  the  body  some,  none  to  the  mind 
From  restless  thoughts,  that  like  a  deadly  swarm 
Of  Hornets  arrn'd,  no  sooner  found  alone, 
But  rush  upon  me  thronging,  and  present 
Time  past,  what  once  I  was,  and  what  am  now. 

ffltntSLl  EltgUtg j.  —  Shakspeare. 

What  is  in  thy  Mind, 
That  makes  thee  stare  thus  ?     Wherefore  breaks  that  sigh 
From  the  inward  of  thee?     One,  but  painted  thus, 
Would  be  interpreted  a  thing  perplex'd 
Beyond  self-explication. 

2f2 


360  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 


T^ 


iHctttal  &ttgUt0fj,—  Shdkspeare. 
LL  me,  what  is't  that  takes  from  thee 
Thy  stomach,  Pleasure,  and  thy  golden  Sleep; 
Why  dost  thou  bend  thine  eyes  upon  the  Earth ; 
And  start  so  often,  when  thou  sitt'st  alone  ? 
Why  hast  thou  lost  the  fresh  blood  in  thy  cheeks; 
And  given  my  treasures,  and  my  rights  of  thee, 
To  thick-eyed  Musing,  and  cursed  Melancholy  ? 
In  thy  faint  slumbers  I  by  thee  have  watch'd, 
And  heard  thee  murmur  tales  of  iron  Wars, 
And  all  the  currents  of  a  heady  Fight. 
Thy  Spirit  within  thee  hath  been  so  at  war, 
And  thus  hath  so  bestirr'd  thee  in  thy  sleep, 
That  beads  of  Sweat  have  stood  upon  thy  brow, 
Like  bubbles  in  a  late  disturbed  stream  : 
And  in  thy  face  strange  motions  have  appear'd, 
Such  as  we  see,  when  men  restrain  their  Breath 
On  some  great  sudden  haste.     Oh  what  Portents  are  these  ? 

Rental  ^ngtusf),  —  Milton. 

Oh  might  I  here 
In  solitude  live  Savage,  in  some  glade 
Obscured,  where  highest  woods  impenetrable 
To  star  or  sun-light,  spread  their  umbrage  broad 
And  brown  as  evening  :  cover  me  ye  Pines, 
Ye  Cedars,  with  innumerable  boughs 
Hide  me,  where  I  may  never  see  them  more. 

i$nttai  HttgUtSf).  —  Shakspeare. 

Grieved  I,  I  had  but  one  ? 

Chid  I  for  That  at  frugal  Nature's  frame? 
I've  one  too  much  by  thee.      Why  had  I  one? 
Why  ever  wast  thou  lovely  in  my  eyes  ? 
Why  had  I  not,  with  charitable  hand, 
Took  up  a  Beggar's  issue  at  my  gates? 
Who  smeer'd  thus,  and  mired  with  infamy, 
I  might  have  said,  no  part  of  it  is  mine; 
This  Shame  derives  itself  from  unknown  loins: 
But  mine,  and  mine  I  loved,  and  mine  I  praised, 
And  mine  that  I  was  proud  on,  mine  so  much, 
That  I  myself  was  to  myself  not  mine, 
Valuing  of  her;  why,  she, — Oh,  she  is  fall'n 
Into  a  pit  of  Ink,  that  the  wide  Sea 
Hath  drops  too  few  to  wash  her  clean  again ; 
And  Salt  too  little  which  may  season  give 
To  her  foul  tainted  Flesh  ! 


0 /?,    TIIIXG  S   NE  W  A XD    OLD.  361 


iHflttal  HngiUSfj.  —  Skakspeare. 

JJETWEEN  the  acting  of  a  dreadful  thing, 

And  the  first  motion,  all  the  interim  is 
Like  a  Phautasma,  or  a  hideous  dream  : 
The  Genius,  and  the  mortal  instruments, 
Are  then  in  council ;   and  the  state  of  a  man, 
Like  to  a  little  Kingdom,  suffers  then 
The  nature  of  an  insurrection. 

fHctttal  ftltgUfe!.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

31 Y  Mind  is  troubled  like  a  Fountain  stirr'd; 
And  I  myself  see  not  the  bottom  of  it. 

Jttttltai  .EttfrUtslj.  —  Byron. 

To  be  thus — 
Gray-hair' d  with  anguish,  like  these  blasted  pines, 
Wrecks  of  a  single  Winter,  barkless,  branchless, 
A  blighted  trunk  upon  a  cursed  root, 
Which  but  supplies  a  feeling  to  decay — 
And  to  be  thus,  eternally  but  thus, 
Having  been  otherwise  !     Xow  furrow'd  o'er 
With  wrinkles,  plough'd  by  moments,  not  by  Years; 
And  hours — all  tortured  into  ages — hours 
Which  I  outlive  !     Ye  toppling  crngs  of  Ice  ! 
Ye  Avalanches,  whom  a  breath  draws  down 
In  mountainous  overwhelming,  come  and  crush  me! 
I  hear  ye  momently  above,  beneath, 
Crash  with  a  frequent  Conflict ;  but  ye  pass, 
And  only  fall  on  things  that  still  would  live. 

iHwtai  KngiltSij.—  Joanna  BaUlie. 
/~\II  that  I  were  upon  some  desert  coast! 

Where  howling  Tempests  and  the  Lashing  Tide 
Would  stun  me  into  deep  and  senseless  Quiet ! 
Come  Madness  !  come  unto  me,  senseless  Death  ! 
I  cannot  suffer  this  !     Here,  rocky  wall, 
Scatter  these  Brains,  or  dull  them  ! 

iHctttfll  Hnguisfj.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
TrET  could  I  bear  that  too ;  well,  very  well : 

But  there,  where  I  have  garner' d  up  my  Heart; 
Where  either  I  must  live,  or  bear  no  Life; 
The  fountain  from  the  which  my  current  runs, 
Or  else  dries  up;  to  be  discarded  thence  ! 
Or  keep  it  as  a  cistern,  for  foul  toads 
To  knot  and  gender  in  !  turn  thy  Complexion  there  ! 
Patience,  thou  young  and  rose-lipp'd  Cherubin; 
Ay,  there,  look  grim  as  Hell  ! 


H>2  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

ffltXltUl  HligutSi).  —  Skakspeare. 

Had  it  pleased  Heaven 
To  try  me  with  Affliction ;  had  he  rain'd 
All  kinds  of  sores,  and  shames,  on  my  bare  Head; 
Steep'd  me  in  Poverty  to  the  very  lips ; 
Given  to  Captivity  me  and  my  utmost  hopes ; 
I  should  have  found  in  some  part  of  my  Soul 
A  drop  of  Patience  :  but  (alas  !)  to  make  me 
A  fixed  figure,  for  the  type  of  Scorn 
To  point  his  low,  unmoving  finger  at, — 
Oh!  Oh! 

iBeittal  &ngUfeJ,  —  Skakspeare. 

Pr'ythee,  lead  me  in  : 
There  take  an  inventory  of  all  I  have, 
To  the  last  penny;  'tis  the  King's  ;  my  robe, 
And  my  integrity  to  Heaven,  is  all 
I  dare  now  call  my  own.     0  Cromwell,  Cromwell, 
Had  I  but  served  my  God  with  half  the  zeal 
I  served  my  King,  he  would  not  in  mine  age 
Have  left  me  naked  to  mine  Enemies. 

i^Clttal  £Uigiltgl).—  Skakspeare. 
"\\rE'LL  no  more  meet,  no  more  see  one  another  : 

But  yet  thou  art  my  flesh,  my  blood,  my  Daughter, 
Or,  rather,  a  Disease  that's  in  my  flesh, 
Which  I  must  needs  call  mine  ;  thou  art  a  boil, 
A  plague-sore,  or  imboss'd  Carbuncle, 
In  my  corrupted  Blood  :  But  I'll  not  chide  thee. 

iBCHtal  &ttgttt0f).  —  Byron. 
T  OOK  on  me  in  my  Sleep, 

Or  watch  my  watchings — Come  and  sit  by  me ! 
My  Solitude  is  Solitude  no  more, 
But  peopled  with  the  Furies  : — I  have  gnash'd 
My  teeth  in  darkness  till  returning  morn, 
Then  cursed  myself  till  sunset; — I  have  pray'd 
For  Madness  as  a  blessing — 'tis  denied  me. 

jBcntal  iclntJUtSf).  —  Skakspeare. 

("WNST  thou  not  minister  to  a  Mind  diseased; 

Pluck  from  the  Memory  a  rooted  Sorrow ; 
Haze  out  the  written  troubles  of  the  Brain ; 
And,  with  some  sweet  oblivious  Antidote, 
Cleanse  the  foul  bosom  of  that  perilous  stuff, 
Which  weighs  upon  the  Heart? 


OR,   THIXGS  NEW  AXD    OLD.  8(53 

iBwtal  RnQUi$l).  —  ShaIcspeare. 
Some  strange  commotion 
Is  in  his  Brain  :  he  bites  his  Lip,  and  starts  : 
Stops  on  a  sudden,  looks  upon  the  ground, 
Then  lays  his  finger  on  his  Temple;  straight, 
Springs  out  into  fast  gait ;  then,  stops  again, 
Strikes  his  Breast  hard )  and  anon,  he  casts 
His  eye  against  the  Moon;  in  most  strange  postures 
"We  have  seen  him  set  himself. 

iBental  HnrriU'gf).  —  Shakspeare. 
f\  VANITY  of  Sickness  !  fierce  extremes, 

In  their  continuance,  will  not  feel  themselves. 
Death,  having  prey'd  upon  the  outward  parts, 
Leaves  them  insensible  ;  and  his  Siege  is  now 
Against  the  Mind,  the  which  he  pricks  and  wounds 
With  many  Legions  of  strange  fantasies  , 
Which,  in  their  throng  and  press  to  that  last  hold, 
Confound  themselves. 


S<™E 


iHcrCJ).  —  Spenser. 
clarkes  doe  doubt  in  their  devicefull  art 
Whether  this  Heavenly  thing  whereof  I  treat, 
To  weeten  Mercie,  be  of  Justice  part, 

Or  drawne  forth  from  her  by  divine  entreate; 
This  well  I  wote,  that  sure  she  is  as  great, 
And  meriteth  to  have  as  high  a  place, 

Sith  in  the  Almightie's  everlasting  seat, 
She  first  was  bred,  and  born  of  heavenly  race, 
From  thence  pour'd  down  on  men  by  influence  of  Grace 

J8eWg.— Moore. 

C\¥  God  she  sung,  and  of  the  mild 

Attendant  Mercy,  that  beside 
His  awful  throne  for  ever  smiled, 

Ready,  with  her  white  hand,  to  guide 
His  bolts  of  vengeance  to  their  prey — 
That  she  might  quench  them  on  their  way ! 

itf  CtCJ).  —  Shakspeare. 

How  would  you  be, 
If  He,  which  is  the  top  of  Judgment,  should 
But  judge  you  as  you  are  ?     Oh,  thiuk  on  that, 
And  Mercy  then  will  breathe  within  your  lips, 
Like  man  new  made. 


364  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 


j&tercg;  —  Shakspeare. 
'THE  quality  of  Mercy  is  not  strain'd  : 

It  droppeth,  as  the  gentle  rain  from  Heaven 
Upon  the  place  beneath  :  it  is  twice  bless'd ; 
It  blesseth  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes: 
'Tis  mightiest  in  the  mightiest :  it  becomes 
The  throned  Monarch  better  than  his  Crown  : 
His  Sceptre  shows  the  force  of  temporal  power, 
The  attribute  to  awe  and  majesty, 
Wherein  doth  sit  the  dread  and  fear  of  kings; 
But  Mercy  is  above  this  scepter' d  sway, 
It  is  an  attribute  to  God  himself; 
And  earthly  power  doth  then  show  likest  God's, 
When  Mercy  seasons  Justice. 

Consider  this, — 
That,  in  the  course  of  Justice,  none  of  us 
Should  see  Salvation  :  we  do  pray  for  Mercy ; 
And  that  same  prayer  doth  teach  us  all  to  render 
The  deeds  of  Mercy. 

iHerCJ),  —  Shakspeare. 
Wilt  thou  draw  near  the  nature  of  the  Gods  ? 
Draw  near  them  then  in  being  merciful : 
Sweet  Mercy  is  Nobility's  true  badge. 

irUltrit.  — La  Rochefoucauld. 
Elevation  is  to  Merit  what  Dress  is  to  a  handsome  person. 

i$lC Ctf .  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
'THERE  is  Merit  without  Elevation,  but  there  is  no  Elevation 
without  some  Merit. 

if¥lcrit»  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
'THE  mark  of  extraordinary  Merit  is  to  see  those  most  envious 
of  it  constrained  to  praise. 

iBcrit.  —  La  Bruyere. 
1"  AM  told  so  many  ill  things  of  a  man,  and  I  see  so  few  in  him, 
that  I  begin  to  suspect  he  has  a  real  but  troublesome  Merit,  as 
being  likely  to  eclipse  that  of  others. 

ffiitxit.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
'THE  art  of  being  able  to  make  a  good  use  of  moderate  abilities 
wins   Esteem,  and  often   confers    more  Reputation    than  real 
Merit. 

irHfrit.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
Nature  creates  Merit,  and  Fortune  brings  it  into  play. 


OR,    THIXGS  XEW  AXD    OLD.  365 


iBerit  —  Queen  Christina. 
Merit  is  bom  with  Men;  happy  those  with  whom  it  dies. 

£Birib.— Goldsmith. 
THHE  Little  Mind  who  loves  itself,  will  write  and  think  with  the 
vulgar ;   but  the  Great   Mind  will   be   bravely  eccentric,  and 
scorn  the  beaten  road,  from  universal  Benevolence. 

Hfcmfc.— swift, 

A  wise  Man  is  never  less  alone,  than  when  he  is  alone. 

£Bh\ti.  —  GaUus. 
X\E>  in  vain  summon  the  Mind  to  intense  application,  when  the 
Body  is  in  a  languid  state. 

iHmtl.  —  Cotton. 
TF  the  most  skilful  Musician  in  the  world  were  placed  before  an 
unstrung  or  broken  instrument,  he  could  not  produce  the  Har- 
mony which  he  was  accustomed  to  do  when  that  instrument  was 
perfect,  nay,  on  the  contrary,  the  sounds  would  be  discordant;  and 
yet  it  would  be  manifestly  most  illogical  to  conclude,  from  such 
an  effect,  that  the  powers  of  the  Musician  were  impaired,  since 
they  merely  appeared  to  be  so  from  the  imperfection  of  the  instru- 
ment. Now  what  the  Instrument  is  to  the  Musician,  the  Brain 
may  be  to  the  Mind,  for  aught  we  know  to  the  contrary;  and  to 
pursue  the  figure,  as  the  musician  has  an  existence  distinct  from  that 
of  the  instrument,  so  the  Mind  may  have  an  existence  distinct  from 
that  of  the  Brain  ;  for  in  truth  we  have  no  proof  whatever  of 
Mind  being  a  property  dependent  upon  any  arrangement  of  Matter. 
We  perceive,  indeed,  the  properties  of  Matter  wonderfully  modi- 
fied in  the  various  things  of  the  Universe,  which  strike  our  senses 
with  the  force  of  their  Sublimity  or  Beauty  ;  but  in  all  these  we  re- 
cognise certain  radical  and  common  properties,  that  bear  no  con- 
ceivable relation  to  those  mysterious  capacities  of  Thought  and  of 
Feeling,  referable  to  that  something  which,  to  designate  and  dis- 
tinguish from  Matter,  we  term  Miud.  In  this  way,  I  conceive, 
the  Common  Sense  of  Mankind  has  made  the  distinction  which 
everywhere  obtains  between  Mind  and  Matter;  for  it  is  natural 
to  conclude,  that  the  essence  of  Mind  may  be  distinct  from  the 
essence  of  Matter,  as  the  operations  of  the  one  are  so  distinct  from 
the  properties  of  the  other.  But  when  we  say  that  Mind  is 
immaterial,  we  only  mean  that  it  has  not  the  properties  of  Matter; 
for  the  consciousness  which  informs  us  of  the  operations,  does  not 
reveal  the  abstract  nature  of  Mind,  neither  do  the  properties  reveal 
the  essence  of  Matter. 


366  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

iffimS.—  Fuller. 

"-JAIID,  rugged,  and  dull  natures  of  youth  acquit  themselves 
afterward  the  Jewels  of  the  Countrey,  and  therefore  their 
dulnesse  at  first  is  to  be  borne  with,  if  they  be  diligent.  That 
schoolmaster  deserves  to  be  beaten  himself  who  beats  Nature  in  a 
boy  for  a  fault.  And  I  question  whether  all  the  whipping  in  the 
world  can  make  their  parts,  which  are  naturally  sluggish,  rise  one 
minute  before  the  houre  Nature  hath  appointed. 

fflitib.  —  Nbvalis. 
A    CERTAIN    degree  of   Solitude  seems  necessary  to    the    full 
growth  and  spread  of  the  highest  Mind  ;  and  therefore  must  a 
very  extensive  Intercourse  with  Men  stifle  many  a  holy  germ,  and 
scare  away  the  gods,  who  shun  the  restless  tumult  of  noisy  Com- 
panies and  the  discussion  of  petty  Interests. 

Jftflft.  —  CeUon. 

\\TE  may  also  doubt  about  the  existence  of  Matter  as  learnedly 
and  as  long  as  we  please,  as  some  have  done  before  us,  and 
yet  we  shall  not  establish  the  existence  of  Matter  by  any  such 
dubitatious ;  but  the  moment  we  begin  to  doubt  about  the  exist- 
ence of  Mind,  the  very  act  of  doubting  proves  it. 

j&ht}!.  — La  Rochefoucauld. 
JNTREPIDITY  is  an  extraordinary  strength  of  Mind,  which 
raises  it  above  the  troubles,  the  disorders,  and  the  emotions, 
which  the  sight  of  great  perils  is  calculated  to  excite  ;  it  is  by  this 
strength  that  Heroes  maintain  themselves  in  a  tranquil  state  of 
Mind,  and  preserve  the  free  use  of  their  Reason  under  the  most 
surprising  and  terrible  circumstances. 

£&int}.  — Terence. 
~^"0  man  was  ever  so  completely  skilled  in  the  conduct  of  Life,  as 
nit  to  receive  new  information  from  Age  and  Experience;  in- 
somuch that  we  find  ourselves  really  ignorant  of  what  we  thought 
we  understood,  and  see  cause  to  reject  what  we  fancied  our  truest 
Interest. 

fQiixCbr—AtuM. 

'THE  blessing  of  an  active  Mind,  when  it  is  in  a  good  condition,  is, 
that  it  not  only  employs  itself,  but  is  almost  sure  to  be  the 
means  of  giving  wholesome  Employment  to  others. 

/B hill.  —  La  Bruyere. 
THE    Mind,  like  all    other  things,  will    become  impaired;    the 
Sciences  are  its  food;  they  nourish,  but  at  the  same  they  con« 
suiue  it. 


OR,    THINGS    NEW  AND     OLD.  mi 

ffiitfil.—Babo. 

A  S  it  is  in  himself  alone  that  Man  can  find  true  and  enduring 
Happiness,  so  in  himself  alone  can  he  find  true  and  efficient 
Consolation  in  Misfortune. 

£&in&.  — Seneca. 
A  S  the  Soil,  however  rich  it  may  be,  cannot  be  productive  without 
""      Culture,  so  the  Mind  without  Cultivation  can  never  produce 
good  Fruit. 

ffliinii.  —  Lord  Cheater  field. 
"PRIVOLOUS  Curiosity  about  trifles,  and  laborious  attention  to 
little  objects,  which  neither  require  nor  deserve  a  moment's 
thought,  lower  a  Man,  who  from  thence  is  thought  (and  not  un- 
justly) incapable  of  greater  Matters.  Cardinal  de  Retz  very  sa- 
gaciously marked  out  Cardinal  Chigi  for  a  little  mind,  from  the 
moment  he  told  him  that  he  had  wrote  three  years  with  the  same 
Pen,  and  that  it  was  an  excellent  good  one  still. 

JHtnti.  _  Seneca. 
'TO  see  a  man  fearless  in  Dangers,  uutaiuted  with  Lusts,  happy 
in  Adversity,  composed  in  a  tumult,  and  laughing  at  all  those 
things  which  are  generally  either  coveted  or  feared,  all  men  must 
acknowledge  that  this  can  be  nothing  else  but  a  beam  of  Divinity 
that  influences  a  mortal  body. 

.fH  info.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
\\TE  find  means  to  cure  Folly,  but  none  to  reclaim  a  distorted 
TT     Mind. 

/£ttnu\  —  rope. 
f  BELIEVE  it  is  no  wrong  observation,  that  persons  of  Genius, 
and  those  who  are  most  capable  of  Art,  are  always  most  fond 
of  Nature  :  as  such  are  chiefly  sensible,  that  all  Art  consists  in  the 
imitation  and  study  of  Nature.  On  the  contrary,  people  of  the 
common  level  of  understanding  are  principally  delighted  with  the 
little  niceties  and  fantastical  operations  of  Art,  and  constantly  think 
that  finest  which  is  least  natural. 

JHmu\  —  Fuller. 
TF  thou  desirest  Ease,  in  the  first  place  take  care  of  the  Ease  of 
thy  Mind ;  for  that  will  make  all  other  sufferings  easy :  But 
nothing  can  support  a  Man  whose  Miud  is  wounded. 

i^flttttJ.  —  Shakspeare. 
"POR  Nature,  crescent,  does  not  grow  alone 

In  Thews  and  Bulk ;  but  as  this  Temple  waxes, 
The  inward  service  of  the  Mind  and  Soul 
Grows  wide  withal. 

2G 


368        ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

j$lilVu\  —  ShaJcspeare. 
'Tis  the  Mind  that  makes  the  Body  rich ; 
And  as  the  Sun  breaks  through  the  darkest  clouds, 
So  Honour  poereth  in  the  meanest  habit. 
What,  is  the  Jay  more  precious  than  the  Lark, 
Because  his  Feathers  are  more  beautiful  ? 
Or  is  the  Adder  better  than  the  Eel, 
Because  his  painted  skin  contents  the  eye  ? 

Minti.  — Goldsmith. 
A   MIND  too  vigorous  and    active   serves  only  to  consume  the 
Body  to  which  it  is  joined,  as  the  richest  Jewels  are  soonest 
found  to  wear  their  Settings. 

Mints.  — Colton. 
TTE  that  has  no  resources  of  Mind,  is  more  to  be  pitied  than  he 
who  is  in  want  of  necessaries  for  the  Body;  and  to  be  obliged 
to  beg  our  daily  Happiness  from  others,  bespeaks  a  more  lament- 
able Poverty  than  that  of  him  who  begs  his  daily  bread. 

J&mK  —  Goldsmith. 
"pOB,  just  Experience  tells,  in  ev'ry  soil, 

That  those  who  think  must  govern  those  that  toil ; 
And  all  that  Freedom's  highest  aims  can  reach 
Is  but  to  lay  proportion'd  loads  on  each. 

Mint!.— Young. 
Our  outward  act,  indeed,  admits  restraint, 
'Tis  not  in  things  o'er  Thought  to  domineer; 
Guard  well  thy  Thoughts  :  our  Thoughts  are  heard  in  Heaven 

jTOnfc.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

This  man  so  complete, 
Who  was  enrolFd  'mongst  wonders,  and  when  we, 
Almost  with  list'ning  ravish'd,  could  not  find 
His  hour  of  speech,  a  minute ;  he,  my  Lady, 
Hath  into  monstrous  Habits  put  the  Graces 
That  once  were  his ;  and  is  become  as  black, 
As  if  besmear'd  in  Hell. 

MiritS.  — Brown. 
THERE  is  a  Rabble  amongst  the  Gentry,  as  well  as  the  Common- 
alty, a  sort  of  plebeian  heads,  whose  fancy  moves  with  the  same 
wheel  as  these  men — in  the  same  level  with  mechanics ;  though  their 
Fortunes  do  somewhat  gild  their  infirmities,  and  their  Purses  com- 
pound for  their  Follies. 

Cfte  Mints.  — Young. 
A  Soul  without  Reflection,  like  a  Pile 
Without  Inhabitant,  to  ruin  runs. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  869 

Cf)e  fflUnti.—Anon. 
A    WEAK  Mind  sinks  under  Prosperity,  as  well  as  under  Ad- 
versity.    A  strong  and  deep  Mind  has  two  highest  tides, — 
when  the  Moon  is  at  the  full,  and  when  there  is  no  Moon. 

Miritl  SlnCUlttbatetr.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
'Tis  an  unweeded  Garden, 
That  grows  to  Seed ;  things  rank,  and  gross  in  nature, 
Possess  it  merely. 

ffllXtf).  —  Peter  Pindar. 
Care  to  our  Coffin  adds  a  nail,  no  doubt ; 
And  ev'ry  Grin  so  merry  draws  one  out. 

ifttserteg.  —  Coiton. 

CjMALL  Miseries,  like  small  Debts,  hit  us  in  so  many  places,  and 
meet  us  at  so  many  turns  and  corners,  that  what  they  want  in 
weight,  they  make  up  in  number,  and  render  it  less  hazardous  to 
stand  the  fire  of  one  Cannon  Ball,  than  a  Volley  composed  of  such 
a  shower  of  Bullets. 

fflimkZ.  —  Greville. 
TT  is  often  better  to  have  a  great  deal  of  Harm  to  happen  to  one 
than  a  little  :  a  great  deal  may  rouse  you  to  remove  what  a  little 
will  only  accustom  you  to  endure. 

ffliZZtitX.  —  S/iakspeare. 
A/TEN'S  natures  wrangle  with  inferior  things, 

Though  great  ones  are  their  object.     'Tis  even  so; 
For  let  our  Finger  ache,  and  it  indues 
Our  other  healthful  members  ev'n  to  that  sense 
Of  Pain. 

Mmim.—Phdarch. 

AS  small  letters  hurt  the  Sight,  so  do  small  matters  him  that  is 
too  much  intent   upon   them :  they  vex  and  stir  up  Anger, 
which  begets  an  evil  habit  in  him  in  reference  to  greater  Affairs. 

i^lt'Serj).  —  ShaJcspeare. 
Famine  is  in  thy  cheeks, 
Need  and  Oppression  starveth  in  thy  eyes, 
Upon  thy  back  hangs  ragged  Misery, 
The  world  is  not  thy  Friend,  nor  the  world's  law. 

JJfltStfOrtUttCS.  —  Joanna  Baillic. 
Those  who  bear  Misfortunes  over  meekly 
Do  but  persuade  mankind  that  they  and  Want 
Are  all  too  fitly  match'd  to  be  disjoin'd, 
And  so  to  it  they  leave  them. 

24 


370         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

ffliSfOXtVLXlt.— Addison. 
A  Soul  exasperated  in  ills,  falls  out 
With  every  thing,  its  Friend,  itself. 

iBtSfOCtUne.  —  Shakspeare. 
rTHO'  now  this  grained  face  of  mine  be  hid 
In  sap-consuming  Winter's  drizzled  snow, 
And  all  the  conduits  of  my  Blood  froze  up ; 
Yet  hath  my  night  of  life  some  memory  ; 
My  wasting  lamp  some  fading  Glimmer  left, 
My  dull,  deaf  ears  a  little  use  to  hear. 

iftltgftlttune.  —  Shakspeare. 
'TIME  hath  not  yet  so  dried  this  Blood  of  mine, 

Nor  Age  so  eat  up  my  invention, 
Nor  Fortune  made  such  havock  of  my  Means, 
Nor  my  bad  life  reft  me  so  much  of  Friends 
But  they  shall  find  awaked,  in  such  a  kind, 
Both  strength  of  limb,  and  policy  of  Mind, 
Ability  in  Means,  and  choice  of  Friends 
To  quit  me  of  them  thoroughly. 

MitifOXtUM.  —  Shakspeare. 
A  LL  things,  that  we  ordained  Festival, 

Turn  from  their  office  to  black  Funeral : 
Our  instruments  to  melancholy  bells ; 
Our  Wedding  cheer  to  a  sad  burial  feast ; 
Our  solemn  Hymns  to  sullen  Dirges  change  ; 
Our  bridal  flowers  serve  for  a  buried  corse, 
And  all  things  change  them  to  the  contrary. 

ffliZiOXtUnt.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
\\TE  have  all  of  us  sufficient  Fortitude  to  bear  the  Misfortunes  of 
others. 

ffliXfOKtUm.  —  SJiakspeare. 
T^HOU  were  better  in  thy  Grave  than  to  answer  with  thy  unco- 
vered body  this  extremity  of  the  Skies. — Is  man  no  more  than 
this  ?  Consider  him  well :  Thou  owest  the  Worm  no  silk,  the 
Beast  no  hide,  the  Sheep  no  wool,  the  Cat  no  perfume :  unaccom- 
modated Man  is  no  more  but  such  a  poor,  bare,  forked  animal  as 
thou  art. 

ffliZfOXtUXlt.  —  Shakspeare. 
Sick  in  the  World's  regard,  wretched  and  low. 

ffllSf  M\im.— Mallet. 
Who  hath  not  known  111- fortune,  never  knew 
Himself,  or  his  own  Virtue. 


OR,    TETNGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  371 

iHlSfortUTte.  —  Shakspeare. 

My  May  of  life 
Is  fall'n  into  the  sear,  the  yellow  leaf: 
And  that  which  should  accompany  old  Age, 
As  Honour,  Love,  Obedience,  troops  of  Friends, 
I  must  not  look  to  have ;  but,  in  their  stead, 
Curses,  not  loud,  but  deep,  Mouth-honour,  breath, 
Which  the  poor  heart  would  fain  deny,  but  dare  not. 

J®  t0ft)ttutte.  —  Shdkspeare. 
"VT Y  blood,  my  want  of  strength,  my  sick  heart,  shows 

That  I  must  yield  my  body  to  the  Earth, 
And,  by  my  fall,  the  conquest  to  my  foe. 
Thus  yields  the  Cedar  to  the  axe's  edge, 
Whose  arms  gave  shelter  to  the  princely  Eagle, 
Under  whose  shade  the  ramping  Lion  slept ; 
Whose  top-branch  overpeer'd  Jove's  spreading  tree 
And  kept  low  shrubs  from  Winter's  powerful  wind. 

iEltSftirtUne.  —  Shdkspeare. 
A  most  poor  man,  made  tame  by  Fortune's  blows ; 
Who,  by  the  art  of  known  and  feeling  Sorrows, 
Am  pregnant  to  good  Pity. 

JEtSfortUTte.  —  Shakspeare. 
Myself, 

Who  had  the  world  as  my  Confectionary, 

The  mouths,  the  tongues,  the  eyes,  and  hearts  of  men 

At  duty,  more  than  I  could  frame  employment ; 

That  numberless  upon  me  stuck,  as  leaves 

Do  on  the  Oak,  have  with  one  Winter's  brush 

Fell  from  their  boughs,  and  left  me  open,  bare 

For  every  Storm  that  blows. 

iHtSfCrttme*  —  Shakspeare. 
This  world  to  me  is  like  a  lasting  Storm, 
Whirring  me  from  my  Friends. 

JHt£tfOrtUttC.  —  Shakspeare. 
Good  stars,  that  were  my  former  guides, 
Have  empty  left  their  Orbs,  and  shot  their  fires 
Into  the  abysm  of  Hell. 

iHiSftrtime.  —  Shakspeare. 
\y HAT,  are  my  doors  opposed  against  my  passage  ? 

Have  I  been  ever  free,  and  must  my  house 
Be  my  retentive  Enemy,  my  Gaol  ? 
The  place,  which  I  have  feasted,  does  it  now, 
Like  all  Mankind,  show  me  an  iron  Heart? 
2g2 


372  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

iBt'SfortUtte.—  ghakspeare. 
"JIS  certain,  Greatness,  once  fallen  out  with  Fortune, 
Must  fall  out  with  men  too  :  What  the  declined  is, 
He  shall  as  soon  read  in  the  eyes  of  others, 
As  feel  in  his  own  fall :  for  men,  like  Butterflies, 
Show  not  their  mealy  wings,  but  to  the  summer; 
And  not  a  man,  for  being  simply  Man, 
Hath  any  Honour  j  but  honour  for  those  Honours 
That  are  without  him,  as  Place,  Riches,  Favour, 
Prizes  of  accident  as  oft  as  Merit : 
Which  when  they  fall,  as  being  slippery  standers, 
The  Love  that  lean'd  on  them  as  slippery  too, 
Do  one  pluck  down  another,  and  together 
Die  in  the  fall. 

MittfQXtUVLZ.  —  Shakspeare. 

To  some  kind  of  men, 
Their  graces  serve  them  but  as  enemies. — 
Oh,  what  a  World  is  this,  when  what  is  comely 
Envenoms  him  that  bears  it ! 

jTOgfOrtUlte.  —  Shakspeare. 
Oh,  sick  to  Death  : 
My  legs,  like  loaden  branches,  bow  to  the  earth, 
Willing  to  leave  their  Burden. 

iHtSftirtime.  —  From  the  French. 
MISFORTUNES  are,  in  Morals,  what  bitters  are  in  medicine : 
each  is  at  first  disagreeable )  but  as  the  bitters  act  as  corro- 
borants to  the  stomach,  so  Adversity  chastens  and  ameliorates  the 
disposition. 

iHtSfortUne.  —  From  the  French. 
TT  is  much  better  to  endeavour  to  forget  one's  Misfortunes,  than 
to  speak  often  of  them. 

J$tSUSe.  _  Shakspeare. 

Oh,  who  shall  believe 
But  you  misuse  the  Reverence  of  your  place ; 
Employ  the  countenance  and  Grace  of  Heaven, 
As  a  false  favourite  doth  his  Prince's  name, 
In  deeds  dishonourable  ? 

Cf)e  i£tO&.—  Thomson. 

Inconstant,  blind, 
Deserting  Friends  at  need,  and  duped  by  Foes ; 
Loud  and  seditious,  when  a  Chief  inspired 
Their  headlong  fury,  but,  of  him  deprived, 
Already  Slaves  that  lick'd  the  scourging  hand. 


OR,     THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  373 

Cje  ffltib.  —  Bryden. 

The  Scum 
That  rises  upmost,  when  the  Nation  boils. 

Cf)e  fflot.— Joanna  Baillie. 
"TIS  ever  thus  :  Indulgence  spoils  the  base ; 

Raising  up  Pride,  and  lawless  Turbulence, 
Like  noxious  vapours  from  the  fulsome  Marsh 
When  Morning  shines  upon  it. 

Cf)e  MM.— Mackenzie. 

ly/TANKIND  in  the  gross  is  a  Gaping  Monster,  that  loves  to  be 
deceived,  and  has  seldom  been  disappointed. 

Cf)e  JHofc.—  Otway. 
These  wide-mouth'd  brutes,  that  bellow  thus  for  Freedom ; 
Oh  !  how  they  run  before  the  hand  of  Pow'r, 
Flying  for  shelter  into  every  Brake  ! 

itfotierattcm.  —  Shahspeare. 
HPHEY  are  as  sick  that  surfeit  with  too  much,  as  they  that  starve 
with  nothing.     It  is  no  mean  Happiness,  therefore,  to  be  seated 
in  the  mean  :  Superfluity  comes  sooner  by  white  hairs,  but  Com- 
petency lives  longer. 

i$ Operation.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
TV/T ODERATION  is  a  fear  of  falling  into  envy,  and  into  the  Con- 
tempt which  those  deserve  who  become  intoxicated  with  their 
Good  Fortune ;  it  is  a  vain  ostentation  of  the  strength  of  our 
mind ;  in  short,  the  Moderation  of  men  in  their  highest  elevation 
is  a  desire  of  appearing  greater  than  their  Fortune. 

iHotierattOn.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
"TV/TODERATION  is   like  Temperance :    we  should  wish    to   eat 
more,  but  are  afraid  of  injuring  our  health. 

iHotJCSt)).  —  Steele. 
A   MODEST  person  seldom  fails  to  gain  the  Goodwill  of  those  he 
converses  with,  because  nobody  envies  a  aislu  who  does  not  ap- 
pear to  be  pleased  with  himself. 

iHotJCSt}}.  —  Young 
That  modest  Grace  subdued  my  soul ; 
That  chastity  of  look,  which  seems  to  hang 
A  veil  of  purest  light  o'er  all  her  Beauties. 

iHotieStg Shakspeare. 

T  ASK,  that  I  might  waken  Reverence, 

And  bid  the  cheek  be  ready  with  a  blush, 
Modest  as  Morning  when  she  coldly  eyes 
The  youthful  Phoebus. 


374  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

_  KHctoeStg."—  ShaJcspeare. 
T'HE  chariest  maid  is  prodigal  enough, 

If  she  unmask  her  beauty  to  the  Moon  : 
Virtue  itself  'scapes  not  calumnious  strokes  : 
The  canker  galls  the  infants  of  the  Spring, 
Too  oft  before  their  buttons  be  disclosed ; 
And  in  the  morn  and  liquid  dew  of  Youth, 
Contagious  blastments  are  most  imminent. 
Be  wary  then  :  best  Safety  lies  in  Fear. 

i$lCrtie0tj).  —  La  Bruyere. 
jyjODESTY  is  to  Merit  as  Shades  to  Figures  in  a  Picture ;  giving 
it  Strength  and  Beauty. 

iTOotreiStg*  —  Addison. 
A  JUST  and  reasonable  Modesty  does  not  only  recommend  Elo- 
quence, but  sets  off  every  great  talent  which  a  man  can  be 
possessed  of:  it  heightens  all  the  Virtues  which  it  accompanies; 
like  the  Shades  in  Paintings,  it  raises  and  rounds  every  Figure,  and 
makes  the  colours  more  beautiful,  though  not  so  glaring  as  they 
would  be  without. 

MtitMit!).  —Hughes. 

^/[ERE  Bashfulness  without  Merit  is  awkward  :  and  Merit  without 
Modesty  is  insolent.     But  Modest  Merit  has  a  double  claim  to 
acceptance. 

J&OtoStg.  —  Baxter. 

YOU  little  know  what  you  have  done,  when  you  have  first  broke 
the  bounds  of  Modesty ;  you  have  set  open  the  door  of  your 
fancy  to  the  Devil,  so  that  he  can,  almost  at  his  pleasure  ever  after, 
represent  the  same  sinful  pleasure  to  you  anew  :  he  hath  now 
access  to  your  fancy  to  stir  up  lustful  Thoughts  and  Desires,  so 
that  when  you  should  think  of  your  calling,  or  of  your  G-od,  or  of 
your  soul,  your  thoughts  will  be  worse  than  swinish,  upon  the  filth 
that  is  not  fit  to  be  named.  If  the  Devil  here  get  in  a  foot,  he  will 
not  easily  be  got   out. 

M0tlt$.  —  Franklin. 
T>EMEMBER  that  Money  is  of  a  prolific,  generating  nature. 
Money  can  beget  Money,  and  its  offspring  can  beget  more,  and 
so  on.  Five  shillings  turned  is  six :  turned  again  it  is  seven  and 
threepence ;  and  so  on  till  it  becomes  a  Hundred  Pounds.  The 
more  there  is  of  it,  the  more  it  produces  every  turning,  so  that  the 
profits  rise  quicker  and  quicker.  He  that  kills  a  breeding  Sow,  de- 
stroys all  her  Offspring  to  the  thousandth  generation.  He  that 
murders  a  Crown,  destroys  all  that  it  might  have  produced,  even 
Scores  of  Pounds. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  375 

J&Otteg,  —  Cotton. 

rr0  cure  us  of  our  immoderate  Love  of  Gain,  we  should  seriously 
consider  how  many  goods  there  are  that  Money  will  not  pur- 
chase, and  these   the  best ;    and   how  many  Evils   there  are  that 
Money  will  not  remedy,  and  these  the  worst. 

iBoneg  aittl  2ume.—  Johnson. 
1VTONEY  and  Time  are  the  heaviest  burdens  of  Life,  and  the  un- 
happiest  of  all  mortals  are  those  who  have  more  of  either  thaD 
they  know  how  to  use. 

Jftoneg.  —  Bouhours. 
Money  is  a  good  Servant,  but  a  dangerous  Master. 

Wf}t  i^OOTt.  —  Byron. 
'THE  Devil's  in  the  Moon  for  mischief;  they 

Who  call'd  her  chaste,  methinks,  began  too  soon 
Their  nomenclature  :  there  is  not  a  day, 
The  longest,  not  the  twenty-first  of  June, 
Sees  half  the  business  in  a  wicked  way 
On  which  three  single  hours  of  Moonshine  smile — 
And  then  she  looks  so  modest  all  the  while. 

ittoralttl).  —  Longfellow. 
~\/|  ORALITY  without  Religion  is  only  a  kind  of  dead-reckoning — 
an  endeavour  to  find  our  place  on  a  cloudy  sea  by  measuring 
the  distance  we  have  to  run,  but  without  any  observation  of  the 
heavenly  bodies. 

ffl  orals.  —  Coiton. 

THERE  are  two  principles  of  established  acceptance  in  Morals ; 
first,  that  Self-interest  is  the  main  spring  of  all  our  actions,  and, 
secondly,  that  Utility  is  the  test  of  their  value.  Now  there  are 
some  cases  where  these  maxims  are  not  tenable,  because  they  are 
not  true  ;  for  some  of  the  noblest  energies  of  Gratitude,  of  Affection, 
of  Courage,  and  of  Benevolence,  are  not  resolvable  into  the  first. 
If  it  be  said  indeed  that  these  estimable  qualities  may  after  all  be 
traced  to  Self-interest,  because  all  the  duties  that  flow  from  them 
are  a  source  of  the  highest  Gratification  to  those  that  perform 
them;  this  I  presume  savours  rather  too  much  of  an  identical  pro- 
position, and  is  only  a  round-about  mode  of  informing  us  that 
virtuous  men  will  act  virtuously.  Take  care  of  Number  One,  says 
the  worldling,  and  the  Christian  says  so  too ;  for  he  has  taken  the 
best  care  of  Number  One,  who  takes  care  that  Number  One  shall 
go  to  Heaven  :  that  blessed  place  is  full  of  those  same  selfish  beings 
who  by  having  constantly  done  good  to  others,  have  as  constantly 
gratified  themselves.     I  humbly  conceive,  therefore,  that  it  is  much 


370  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

nearer  the  Truth  to  say  that  all  men  have  an  Interest  in  being 
good,  than  that  all  men  are  good  from  Interest.  As  to  the  standard 
of  Utility,  this  is  a  mode  of  examining  human  actions  that  looks 
too  much  to  the  event;  for  there  are  occasions  where  a  man  may 
effect  the  greatest  General  Good  by  the  smallest  Individual  Sacri- 
fice, and  there  are  others  where  he  may  make  the  greatest  Indi- 
vidual Sacrifice,  and  yet  produce  but  little  General  Good.  If 
indeed  the  Moral  Philosopher  is  determined  to  do  all  his  work  with 
the  smallest  possible  quantity  of  tools,  and  would  wish  to  cope  with 
the  Natural  Philosopher,  who  has  explained  such  wonders  from 
the  two  simple  causes  of  Impulse  and  of  Gravity,  in  this  case  he 
must  look  out  for  maxims  as  universal  as  those  occasions  to  which 
he  would  apply  them.  Perhaps  he  might  begin  by  affirming  with 
me  that — Men  are  the  same;  and  this  will  naturally  lead  him  to 
another  conclusion,  that  if  men  are  the  same,  they  can  have  but 
one  common  principle  of  action,  the  Attainment  of  apparent  Good  ; 
those  two  simple  truisms  contain  the  whole  of  my  Philosophy,  and 
as  they  have  not  been  worn  out  in  the  performance  of  one  under- 
taking, I  trust  they  will  not  fail  me  in  the  execution  of  another. 

JItorntng.  —  Shaksjpeare. 
TTOW  bloodily  the  Sun  begins  to  peer 

Above  yon  busky  hill !  the  day  looks  pale 
At  his  distemperature. 

The  southern  Wind 
Doth  play  the  Trumpet  to  his  purposes ; 
And,  by  his  hollow  whistling  in  the  leaves 
Foretells  a  Tempest,  and  a  blustering  day. 

J&CMtmfl.  —  Milton. 
l^OW  the  bright  Morning-star,  Day's  harbinger, 

Comes  dancing  from  the  east,  and  leads  with  her 
The  flow'ry  May,  who  from  her  green  lap  throws 
The  yellow  Cowslip,  and  the  pale  Primrose. 

JHormng.— Beattie. 

T>UT  who  the  melodies  of  Morn  can  tell  ? 

The  wild  Brook  babbling  down  the  mountain's  side; 
The  lowing  Herd;  the  sheepfold's  simple  Bell; 

The  Pipe  of  early  Shepherd  dim  descried 

In  the  lone  valley ;  echoing  far  and  wide 
The  clamorous  Horn  along  the  cliffs  above ; 

The  hollow  murmur  of  the  Ocean  tide  ; 
The  hum  of  Bees,  the  linnet's  lay  of  Love, 
And  the  full  Choir  that  wakes  the  universal  Grove 


OR,   THINGS   NEW   AND    OLD.  377 

itfornttttj.—  Byron. 
"DUT  mighty  Nature  bounds  as  from  her  birth : 

The  sun  is  in  the  Heavens,  and  life  on  Earth; 
Flowers  in  the  Valley,  splendour  in  the  Beam, 
Health  on  the  Gale,  and  freshness  in  the  Stream. 

jHowtng.—  Scott. 

Y\/~HAT  various  scenes,  and,  oh!  what  scenes  of  Wo, 
Are  witness'd  by  that  red  and  struggling  beam ! 
The  fever' d  Patient,  from  his  pallet  low, 

Through  crowded  hospitals  beholds  it  stream; 
The  ruin'd  Maiden  trembles  at  its  gleam, 

The  Debtor  wakes  to  thought  of  gyve  and  jail, 
The  Love-lorn  wretch  starts  from  tormenting  dream ; 

The  wakeful  mother,  by  the  glimmering  pale, 
Trims  her  sick  Infant's  couch,  and  soothes  his  feeble  wail. 

i^lOWtng.  —  Byron. 
THHE  Morn  is  up  again,  the  dewy  Morn, 

With  breath  all  incense,  and  with  cheek  all  bloom, 
Laughing  the  clouds  away  with  playful  Scorn, 
And  living  as  if  Earth  contain'd  no  tomb, — 
And  glowing  into  Day. 

itfOWtng.  —  Dryden. 
'THE  Morning  Lark,  the  messenger  of  Day, 

Saluted  in  her  song  the  Morning  gray, 
And  soon  the  Sun  arose  with  beams  so  bright 
That  all  th'  horizon  laugh'd  to  see  the  joyous  sight; 
He  with  his  tepid  rays  the  Rose  renews, 
And  licks  the  drooping  leaves,  and  dries  the  Dews. 

itfOWtng.— '  Webster. 
THHE  Morning  itself,  few  people,  inhabitants  of  cities,  know  any 
thing  about.  Among  all  our  good  people,  not  one  in  a  thousand 
sees  the  sun  rise  once  in  a  year.  They  know  nothing  of  the  morn- 
ing. Their  idea  of  it  is  that  it  is  that  part  of  the  day  which  comes 
along  after  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  beef-steak  or  a  piece  of  toast. 
With  them,  morning  is  not  a  new  issuing  of  light,  a  new  bursting 
forth  of  the  sun,  a  new  waking-up  of  all  that  has  life  from  a  sort 
of  temporary  death,  to  behold  again  the  works  of  God,  the  heaven? 
and  the  earth :  it  is  only  a  part  of  the  domestic  day,  belonging  to 
reading  newspapers,  answering  notes,  sending  the  children  to  school, 
and  giving  orders  for  dinner.  The  first  streak  of  light,  the  earliest 
purpling  of  the  east,  which  the  lark  springs  up  to  greet,  and  the 
deeper  and  deeper  colouring  into  orange  and  red,  till  at  length  the 
"  glorious  sun  is  seen,  regent  of  the  day" — this  they  never  enjoy, 


378  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

for  they  never  see  it.  I  never  thought  that  Adam  had  much  the 
advantage  of  us  from  having  seen  the  world  while  it  was  new.  The 
manifestations  of  the  power  of  Grod,  like  his  mercies,  are  "  new 
every  morning"  and  fresh  every  moment.  We  see  as  fine  risings 
of  the  sun  as  ever  Adam  saw  ;  and  its  risings  are  as  much  a  miracle 
now  as  they  were  in  his  day — and,  I  think,  a  good  deal  more,  because 
it  is  now  a  part  of  the  miracle,  that  for  thousands  and  thousands  of 
years  he  has  come  to  his  appointed  time,  without  the  variation  of 
a  millionth  part  of  a  second.  Adam  could  not  tell  how  this  might 
be.  I  know  the  morning — I  am  acquainted  with  it,  and  I  love  it. 
I  love  it  fresh  and  sweet  as  it  is — a  daily  new  creation,  breaking 
forth  and  calling  all  that  have  life  and  breath  and  being  to  new 
adoration,  new  enjoyments,  and  new  gratitude. 

Mtotmng.— ma<m. 

Awake 

My  fairest,  my  espoused,  my  latest  found, 
Heaven's  last  Gift,  my  ever  new  delight, 
Awake;  the  Morning  shines,  and  the  fresh  field 
Calls  us ;  we  lose  the  prime,  to  mark  how  spring 
Our  tender  plants,  how  blows  the  citron  grove, 
What  drops  the  Myrrh,  and  what  the  balmy  reed, 
How  Nature  paints  her  colours,  how  the  Bee 
Sits  on  the  bloom. 

iHorOSetteSS.  —  Bacon. 
"VTEN"  possessing  minds  which  are  morose,  solemn,  and  inflexible, 
enjoy,  in  general,  a  greater  share  of  Dignity  than  of  Happiness. 

i$0ttb££>.  — La  Rochefoucauld. 
\\T^  should  often  have  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  our  most  brilliant 
Actions,  if  the  world  could  see  the  Motives  from  which  they 
spring. 

Cfje  JHountam  gltr —  Byron. 

Oh  !  there  is  sweetness  in  the  Mountain  Air, 

And  Life,  that  bloated  Ease  can  never  hope  to  share. 

JHurtiet.  —  Shakspeare. 
Beyond  the  infinite  and  boundless  reach 
Of  mercy,  if  thou  didst  this  deed  of  Death, 
Art  thou  damn'd. 

J&unnurmg.  —  Coiton. 

\/[ URMUR  at  nothing  ;  if  our  ills  are  reparable,  it  is  ungrateful j 
if  remediless,  it  is  vain. 

iBu0tC.  —  Collins. 
Music,  sphere-descended  maid, 
Friend  of  Pleasure,  Wisdom's  aid! 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  370 

/HU01C.  —  Slmkspeare. 
T)0  but  note  a  wild  and  wanton  herd, 

Or  race  of  youthful  and  unhandled  colts, 
Fetching  mad  bounds,  bellowing  and  neighing  loud, 
Which  is  the  hot  condition  of  their  Blood  ; 
If  they  but  hear  perchance  a  Trumpet  sound, 
Or  any  air  of  Music  touch  their  ears, 
You  shall  perceive  them  make  a  mutual  stand, 
Their  savage  eyes  turn'd  to  a  modest  gaze, 
By  the  sweet  power  of  Music  :  Therefore,  the  poet 
Did  feign,  that  Orpheus  drew  Trees,  stones,  and  floods ; 
Since  naught  so  stockish,  hard,  and  full  of  rage, 
But  Music  for  the  time  doth  change  his  nature. 
The  man  that  hath  no  Music  in  himself, 
Nor  is  not  moved  with  Concord  of  sweet  Sounds, 
Is  fit  for  Treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils ; 
The  motions  of  his  Spirit  are  dull  as  night, 
And  his  affections  dark  as  Erebus : 
Let  no  such  man  be  trusted. 

j$tU0tC.  —  Greville. 
A    GOOD  ear  for  music,  and  a  taste  for  Music  are  two  very  differ- 
ent things  which  are  often  confounded :  and  so  is  comprehend 
ing  and  enjoying  every  object  of  Sense  and  Sentiment. 

i£lUStC.  —  Shakspeare. 
T^rHEN  griping  Grief  the  Heart  doth  wound, 

And  doleful  dumps  the  Mind  oppress, 
Then  Music,  with  her  silver  sound, 

With  speedy  help  doth  lend  redress. 

fflUSiC  — Moore. 

JV/TUSIC  ! — oh  !  how  faint,  how  weak, 

Language  fades  before  thy  spell ! 
Why  should  Feeling  ever  speak, 

When  thou  can'st  breathe  her  Soul  so  well  ? 
Friendship's  balmy  words  may  feign, 

Love's  are  ev'n  more  false  than  they ; 
Oh  !  'tis  only  Music's  strain 

Can  sweetly  soothe,  aad  not  betray  ! 

iHugitC.  — Montgomery. 
Through  every  pulse  the  Music  stole, 
And  held  sublime  communion  with  the  Soul; 
Wrung  from  the  coyest  Breast  the  imprison'd  sigh, 
And  kindled  rapture  in  the  coldest  Eye. 

2  11 


880  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

fflUBiC  —  Pope. 

"RY  Music,  minds  an  equal  temper  know, 
Nor  swell  too  high,  nor  sink  too  low : 
If  in  the  Breast  tumultuous  joys  arise, 
Music  her  soft  assuasive  voice  applies  ; 

Or,  when  the  Soul  is  press' d  with  cares, 

Exalts  her  in  enliv'ning  airs. 
Warriors  she  fires  with  animated  sounds, 
Pours  balm  into  the  bleeding  Lover's  wounds  : 

Melancholy  lifts  her  head, 

Morpheus  rouses  from  his  bed, 

►Sloth  unfolds  her  arms  and  wakes, 

List'ning  Envy  drops  her  snakes; 
Intestine  War  no  more  our  passions  wage, 
And  giddy  Factions  hear  away  their  rage. 

$&U8it.  —  Seattle. 

TS  there  a  Heart  that  Music  cannot  melt  1 
Alas  !  how  is  that  rugged  heart  forlorn ; 
Es  there,  who  ne'er  those  mystic  transports  felt 

Of  Solitude  and  Melancholy  born  ! 

He  needs  Dot  woo  the  Muse;  he  is  her  scorn. 
The  sophist's  rope  of  cobweb  he  shall  twine  ; 

Mope  o'er  the  schoolman's  peevish  page ;  or  mourn, 
And  delve  for  life  in  Mammon's  dirty  mine; 
Sneak  with  the  scoundrel  Fox,  or  grunt  with  glutton  Swine. 

JHuStC  —  Moore. 
T?OR  mine  is  the  Lay  that  lightly  floats, 

And  mine  are  the  murmuring  dying  notes, 
That  fall  as  soft  as  Snow  on  the  sea, 
And  melt  in  the  Heart  as  instantly  ! 
And  the  passionate  strain  that,  deeply  going, 

Refines  the  Bosom  it  trembles  through, 

As  the  musk-wind,  over  the  water  blowing, 

Ruffles  the  wave,  but  sweetens  it  too  ! 

$ftuStC.  —  Shalcspeare. 
PREPOSTEROUS  ass  !  that  never  read  so  far 
To  know  the  cause  why  Music  was  ordain'd  I 
Was  it  not  to  refresh  the  mind  of  man, 
After  his  studies,  or  his  usual  Pain  ? 

j$tU0tC.  —  Shahspeare. 
This  Music  crept  by  me  upon  the  waters ; 
Allaying  both  their  Fury,  and  my  Passion, 
With  its  sweet  Air. 


OR,   THING  S   NEW  AND    OLD.  381 


Jlfl£0ttf&  —  Chesterfield. 
A  PROPER  Secrecy  is  the  only  mystery  of  able  Men  ;  Mystery  is 
the  only  Secrecy  of  weak  and  cunning  ones. 

JHpsterp,  —  Coiton. 

Mystery  magnifies  Danger,  as  a  fog  the  Sun. 

JHgStetJ).  —  Tom  Brown. 
/CONSIDER  that  the  trade  of  a  vintner  is  a  perfect  Mystery,  (for 
that  is  the  term  the  law  bestows  on  it;)  now,  as  all  Mysteries 
in  the  world  are  wholly  supported  by  hard  and  unintelligible  terms, 
so  you  must  take  care  to  christen  your  Wines  by  some  hard  names, 
the  farther  fetched  so  much  the  better;  and  this  policy  will  serve 
to  recommend  the  most  execrable  stuff  in  all  your  collar.  A  plau- 
sible name  to  an  indifferent  Wine  is  what  a  gaudy  title  is  to  a  Fop, 
or  fine  clothes  to  a  Woman  :  it  helps  to  conceal  the  defects  it  has, 
and  bespeaks  the  world  in  its  favour.  Men  naturally  love  to  be 
cheated,  and  provided  the  imposition  is  not  too  barefaced,  will  meet 
you  half-way  with  all  their  Hearts. 

$Jutoet  Of  £LamtB.  — Zimmerman. 
"YyiTH  the  vulgar,  and  the  learned,  Names  have  great  weight ; 
the  wise  use  a  writ  of  inquiry  into  their  legitimacy  when  they 
are  advanced  as  authorities. 

Carroll)  fflirib.— Addison. 

A    MAN  who  has  been  brought  up  among  Books,  and  is  able  to 

talk  of  nothing  else,  is  a  very  indifferent  companion,  and  what 

we  call  a  Pedant.     But  we  should  enlarge  the  title,  and  give  it  to 

every  one  that  does  not  know  how  to  think  out  of  his  Profession 

and  particular  way  of  Life. 

iJlattoto  £&iritl.  —  La  Bnu/ere. 
gHORT-SIGHTED  people,— I  mean  such  who  have  but  narrow 
Conceptions,  never  extended  beyond  their  own  little  sphere, — 
cannot  comprehend  that  universality  of  Talents  which  is  sometimes 
observable  in  one  person.  They  allow  no  solidity  in  whatever  is 
agreeable :  or  when  they  see  in  any  one  the  graces  of  the  Body, 
activity,  suppleness,  and  dexterity,  they  conclude  he  wants  the  en- 
dowments of  the  Mind,  Judgment,  Prudence,  and  Perspicacity 
Let  History  say  what  it  will,  they  will  not  believe  that  Socrates 
ever  danced. 

dFall  Of  glatitiM.  — Bacon. 
I"N  the  Youth  of  a  state,  Arms  do  flourish  :  in  the  Middle  Age  of 
a  state,  Learning;  and  then  both  of  them   together  for  a  time; 
iD  the  Declining  Age  of  a  state,  Mechanical  Arts  and  Merchandise 


382  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

jFall  Of  Jettons.  —  Byron. 
THERE  is  the  moral  of  all  human  tales; 
'Tis  but  the  same  rehearsal  of  the  past, 
First  Freedom,  and  then  Glory — when  that  fails, 
Wealth,  Vice,  Corruption — Barbarism  at  last. 
And  History,  with  all  her  volumes  vast, 
Hath  but  one  page. 

jjlattonal  (Character.  —  ciay. 

A    NATION'S  Character  is  the  sum  of  its  splendid  deeds;  they 

constitute   one  common   patrimony,  the  nation's  inheritance. 

They  awe  foreign  powers,  they  arouse  and  animate  our  own  people 

i&atUte.—  Young. 

T  OOK  Nature  through,  'tis  revolution  all ; 

All  change ;  no  Death.     Day  follows  Night ;  and  Night 
The  dying  Day :  Stars  rise,  and  set,  and  rise ; 
Earth  takes  th'  example.     See,  the  Summer  gay, 
With  her  green  chaplet,  and  ambrosial  flowers, 
Droops  into  pallid  Autumn  :  Winter  gray, 
Horrid  with  frost,  and  turbulent  with  storm, 
Blows  Autumn,  and  his  golden  fruits,  away : 
Then  melts  into  the  Spring :  soft  Spring,  with  breath 
Favonian,  from  warm  chambers  of  the  south, 
Recalls  the  first.     All,  to  re-flourish,  fades ; 
As  in  a  wheel,  all  sinks,  to  reascend. 
Emblems  of  Man,  who  passes,  not  expires. 

Jiattire.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTATH  not  old  custom  made  this  life  more  sweet 

Than  that  of  painted  Pomp  ?     Are  not  these  woods 
More  free  from  peril  than  the  envious  Court  ? 
Here  feel  we  but  the  penalty  of  Adam, 
The  Season's  difference ;  as,  the  icy  fang, 
And  churlish  chiding  of  the  Winter's  wind ; 
Which,  when  it  bites  and  blows  upon  my  body, 
Even  till  I  shrink  with  cold,  I  smile,  and  say, — 
This  is  no  flattery ;  these  are  Counsellors 
That  feelingly  persuade  me  what  I  am. 
And  this  our  Life,  exempt  from  public  haunt, 
Finds  tongues  in  Trees,  books  in  the  running  Brooks, 
Sermons  in  Stones,  and  good  in  every  thing. 

jEatUte.  —  Milton. 
In  contemplation  of  created  things 
By  steps  we  may  ascend  to  God. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  383 

Jiaturc  —  Skakspeare. 

All  love  the  womb  that  their  first  beings  bred. 

Mature.  —  Young. 
Who  lives  to  Nature,  rarely  can  be  poor ; 
Who  lives  to  Fancy,  never  can  be  rich. 

Mature.  —  Thomson. 

Who  can  paint 
Like  Nature  ?     Can  Imagination  boast, 
Amid  its  gay  creation,  hues  like  hers  ? 
Or  can  it  mix  them  with  that  matchless  skill, 
And  lose  them  in  each  other,  as  appears 
In  every  Bud  that  blows  ? 

JiatUte.— Byron. 

XTOT  vainly  did  the  early  Persian  make 
His  Altar  the  high  places  and  the  peak 

Of  earth — o'er  gazing  mountains,  and  thus  take 
A  fit  and  unwall'd  Temple,  there  to  seek 
The  Spirit,  in  whose  honour  shrines  are  weak, 

Uprear'd  of  Human  Hands.     Come,  and  compare 
Columns  and  idol-dwellings,  Goth,  or  Greek, 

With  Nature's  realms  of  worship,  Earth  and  Air, 

Nor  fix  on  fond  abodes  to  circumscribe  thy  prayer  ! 

fiatUte.  —  Thomson. 
"W"ATURE  !  Great  Parent!  whose  unceasing  hand 

Rolls  round  the  seasons  of  the  changeful  year, 
How  mighty,  how  majestic,  are  thy  works  ! 
With  what  a  pleasing  Dread  they  swell  the  soul ! 
That  sees  astonish'd  !  and  astonish'd  sings  ! 

Mature.  —  Byron. 

T  IVE  not  the  Stars  and  Mountains  ?     Are  the  waves 

Without  a  Spirit  ?     Are  the  dropping  caves 
Without  a  feeling  in  their  silent  Tears  ? 
No,  No ; — they  woo  and  clasp  us  to  their  spheres, 
Dissolve  this  clog  and  clod  of  clay  before 
Its  hour,  and  merge  our  Soul  in  the  great  shore. 

ill  a  t  U  X  t .  —  Sha  kspeare . 
THE  Earth,  that's  Nature's  mother,  is  her  tomb; 
What  is  her  burying  Grave,  that  is  her  womb  : 
And  from  her  womb,  children  of  divers  kind, 
We  sucking  on  her  natural  Bosom  find ; 
Many  for  many  virtues  excellent, 
None  but  for  some,  and  yet  all  different. 

2n2 


384  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 

3!ahlU.  —  Bt/ron. 
'J'HERE'S  Music  in  the  sighing  of  a  reed; 

There's  Music  in  the  gushing  of  a  rill; 
There's  Music  in  all  things,  if  men  had  ears ; 
Their  Earth  is  but  an  echo  of  the  spheres. 

iJiatUte.  —  Byron. 

T^HERE  rose  the  Mountains,  there  to  him  were  friends ; 
Where  roll'd  the  Ocean,  thereon  was  his  home ; 

Where  a  blue  sky,  and  glowing  clime  extends, 
He  had  the  Passion  and  the  power  to  roam  : 
The  Desert,  Forest,  Cavern,  Breaker's  foam, 

Were  unto  him  companionship ;  they  spake 
A  mutual  language,  clearer  than  the  tone 

Of  his  land's  Tongue,  which  he  would  oft  forsake 

For  Nature's  pages  glass'd  by  sunbeams  on  the  lake. 

iHature.— Beattie. 

f\  NATURE,  how  in  every  charm  supremo  ! 

Whose  votaries  feast  on  raptures  ever  new  ! 
Oh  for  the  voice  and  fire  of  Seraphim, 

To  sing  thy  Glories  with  devotion  due  ! 

Blest  be  the  day  I  'scaped  the  wrangling  cew, 
From  Pyrrho's  maze,  and  Epicurus'  sty ; 

And  held  high  converse  with  the  godlike  frw, 
Who  to  th'  enraptured  Heart,  and  ear,  and  eye, 
Teach  Beauty,  Virtue,  Truth,  and  Love,  and  Melody 

JlatUre,  —  Dryden. 
T>Y  viewing  Nature,  Nature's  handmaid,  Art, 

Makes  mighty  things  from  small  beginnings  grow : 
Thus  Fishes  first  to  Shipping  did  impart, 
Their  tail  the  Rudder,  and  their  head  the  Prow. 

CEE,  through  this  Air,  this  Ocean,  and  this  Earth, 

All  matter  quick,  and  bursting  into  birth. 
Above,  how  high  progressive  life  may  go ! 
Around,  how  wide  !  how  deep  extend  below  ! 
Vast  chain  of  Being  !  which  from  G-od  began, 
Nature's  ethereal,  human,  angel,  man; 
Beast,  Bird,  Fish,  Insect — what  no  eye  can  see, 
No  glass  can  reach,  from  infinite  to  Thee, 
From  Thee  to  nothing. 

£latUtC.— Juvenal. 
Nature  never  says  that  which  Wisdom  will  contradict. 


OR,   TfflXGS    NEW  AXD    OLD.  385 


l&ature. — c&wper. 

Scenes  must  be  beautiful  which  daily  view'd 
Please  daily,  and  whose  novelty  survives 
Long  Knowledge  and  the  scrutiny  of  Years. 

Jfiattire,  —  Shdkspeare. 
OH,  mickle  is  the  powerful  grace  that  lies 

In  Herbs,  Plants,  Stones,  and  their  true  qualities : 
For  naught  so  vile,  that  on  the  earth  doth  live, 
But  to  the  Earth  some  special  good  doth  give ; 
Nor  aught  so  good,  but,  strain'd  from  that  fair  use, 
Eevolts  from  true  birth,  stumbling  on  abuse ; 
Virtue  itself  turns  Vice,  being  misapplied; 
And  Vice  sometime's  by  action  dignified. 

Iliatttre.  —  Anon. 

A  NY  tiling  may  become  Nature  to  Man  :  the  rare  thing  is  to  find 
a  Nature  that  is  truly  natural. 

i^atlire.  —  Anon. 
Jtf ATURE  is  mighty.  Art  is  mighty.  Artifice  is  weak.  For 
Nature  is  the  work  of  a  mightier  power  than  Man.  Art  is  the 
work  of  Man  under  the  guidance  and  inspiration  of  a  mightier 
power.  Artifice  is  the  work  of  mere  Man  in  the  imbecility  of  his 
mimic  understanding. 

jUattlte.  —  Longfellow. 
"ptfATURE  alone  is  permanent.  Fantastic  idols  may  be  worshipped 
for  awhile ;  but  at  length  they  are  overturned  by  the  continual 
and  silent  progress  of  Truth,  as  the  grim  statues  of  Copan  have 
been  pushed  from  their  pcde^als  by  the  growth  of  forest-trees, 
whose  seeds  were  sown  by  the  wind  in  the  ruined  walls. 

(SOOti  ilature.—  Dryden. 
/^j-OOD  Sense  and  Good  Nature  are  never  separated,  though  the 
ignorant    world    has    thought    otherwise.      Good    Nature,    by 
which  I  mean  Beneficence  and  Candour,  is  the  product  of  Eight 
Reason 

Cfje  i^egattbe.  —  Grevau. 

'INHERE  is  in  some  men  a  dispassionate  Neutrality  of  Mind, 
which,  though  it  generally  passes  for  Good  Temper,  can  neither 
gratify  nor  warm  us  :  it  must  indeed  be  granted  that  these  men  can 
only  negatively  offend;  but  then  it  should  also  be  remembered  that 
they  cannot  positively  please. 

3T|)e  Jiegattfce.  —  Lavater. 
TTE  that  has  no  Friend  and  no  Enemy  is  one  of  the  vulgar;  and 
without  Talents,  Powers,  or  Energy. 


386  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF  TRUTH; 

CijC  Jiegattbe*  —  Shenstone. 
TITHAT  numbers  live  to  the  age  of  fifty  or  sixty  years  !  yet,  if 
estimated  by  their  Merit,  are  not  worth  the  price  of  a  Chick 
the  moment  it  is  hatched. 

Cf)e  $Lt\toWa$W.— Bishop  HorTie. 
'THE  follies,  vices,  and   consequent  miseries  of  multitudes,  dis- 
played in  a  Newspaper,  are  so  many  admonitions  and  warnings, 
so  many  Beacons,  continually  burning,  to    turn    others  from  the 
Rocks  on  which  they  have  been  shipwrecked. 

iRetoSpaper  JftarbelS.  —  Fisher  Ames. 
TT  seems  really  as  if  our  Newspapers  were  busy  to  spread  super- 
stition. Omens,  and  dreams,  and  prodigies  are  recorded,  as  if 
they  were  worth  minding.  The  increasing  fashion  for  printing 
wonderful  tales  of  crimes  and  accidents  is  worse  than  ridiculous,  as 
it  corrupts  both  the  public  taste  and  morals.  It  multiplies  fables, 
prodigious  monsters,  and  crimes,  and  thus  makes  shocking  things 
familiar;  while  it  withdraws  all  popular  attention  from  familiar 
truth,  because  it  is  not  shocking.  Surely,  extraordinary  events 
have  not  the  best  title  to  our  studious  attention.  To  study  nature 
or  man,  we  ought  to  know  things  that  are  in  the  ordinary  course, 
not  the  unaccountable  things  that  happen  out  of  it. 

i&tgfjt.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTOW  sweet  the  Moonlight  sleeps  upon  this  bank  ! 

Here  will  we  sit,  and  let  the  sounds  of  Music 
Creep  in  our  ears ;  soft  Stillness,  and  the  Night 
Become  the  touches  of  sweet  Harmony. 
Look,  how  the  floor  of  Heav'n 
Is  thick  inlaid  with  patines  jf  bright  gold  ; 
There's  not  the  smallest  Orb,  which  thou  behold' st, 
But  in  his  motion  like  an  Angel  sings, 
Still  quiring  to  the  young-eyed  Cherubins ; 
Such  harmony  is  in  immortal  sounds  ! 
But  whilst  this  muddy  vesture  of  decay 
Doth  grossly  close  us  in,  we  cannot  hear  it. 

iEtgf)t.  —  Spenser. 
TJNDER  thy  mantle  black  ther  hidden  lye 

Light-shonning  Thefte,  and  traiterous  Intent, 
Abhorr'd  Bloodshed,  and  vile  Felony, 

Shameful  Deceipt  and  Daunger  imminent, 
Fowle  Horror,  and  eke  Hellish  Dreriment. 

iHtgfjt.  —  Byron. 

The  Night 
Shows  Stars  and  Women  in  a  better  light. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  387 


jatgf)t Byron. 

,rriS  Midnight:  on  the  Mountain's  brown 

The  cold,  round  Moon  shines  deeply  down : 
Blue  roll  the  waters,  blue  the  sky 
Spreads  like  an  Ocean  hung  on  high, 
Bespangled  with  those  isles  of  ight, 
So  wildly,  spiritually  bright; 
Who  ever  gazed  upon  them  shining, 
And  turn'd  to  Earth  without  repining, 
Nor  wish'd  for  Wings  to  flee  away, 
And  mix  with  their  eternal  ray. 

JItgi)t.  —  Young. 
'THE  Sun  went  down  in  clouds,  and  seem'd  to  mourn 

The  sad  necessity  of  his  return ; 
The  hollow  wind,  and  melancholy  rain, 
Or  did,  or  was  imagined,  to  complain  : 
The  tapers  cast  an  inauspicious  light ; 
Stars  there  were  none,  and  doubly  dark  the  Night. 

i2,tgt)t.  —  Spenser. 
"foTOW  gan  the  golden  Phoebus  for  to  steepe 

His  fierie  face  in  billowes  of  the  west, 
And  his  faint  Steedes  watred  in  Ocean  deepe. 
Whiles  from  their  journall  labours  they  did  rest. 

JLtjjfjt.  —  Spenser. 

TITHERE  griesly  Night,  with  visage  deadly  sad, 
That  Phoebus'  chearefull  face  dust  never  vew, 

And  in  a  foul e  blacke  pitchy  Mantle  clad, 

She  findes  forth  coming  from  her  darksome  mew, 
Where  she  all  day  did  hide  her  hated  hew  ; 

Before  the  dore  her  yron  Charet  stood 
Already  harnessed  for  a  journey  new; 

And  coleblacke  steeds  yborne  of  Hellish  brood, 

That  on  their  rusty  bits  did  champ  as  they  were  wood. 

£f)e  PA^X,  —  Milton. 
TTTHY  sleep'st  thou,  Eve?  now  is  the  pleasant  time, 

The  cool,  the  silent,  save  where  Silence  yields 
To  the  Night-warbling  Bird,  that  now  awake, 
Tunes  sweetest  his  love-labour'd  song ;  now  reigns 
Full-nrb'd  the  Moon,  and  with  more  pleasing  light 
Shadowy  sets-off  the  face  of  things;  in  vain, 
If  none  regard. 


388  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Cfjei^iflilk—  Byron. 

In  her  starry  shade 
Of  dim  and  solitary  Loveliness, 
I  learn  the  language  of  another  World. 

&f)e  i&tg|)t  —Byron. 

All  is  gentle  :  naught 
Stirs  rudely ;  but  congenial  with  the  Night, 
Whatever  walks  is  gliding  like  a  Spirit. 

CJ)eilit3i)t.  —  Byron. 
TTOW  sweet  and  soothing  is  this  hour  of  Calm ! 

I  thank  thee,  Night !  for  thou  hast  chased  away 
These  horrid  bodements  which,  amidst  the  throng. 
I  could  not  dissipate  :  and  with  the  Blessing 
Of  thy  benign  and  quiet  influence 
Now  will  I  to  my  couch,  although  to  rest 
Is  almost  wronging  such  a  Night  as  this. 

$Hi$L—Southeij. 
How  beautiful  is  Night ! 
A  dewy  freshness  fills  the  silent  air, 
No  mist  obscures,  nor  cloud,  nor  speck,  nor  stain, 

Breaks  the  serene  of  Heaven  : 
In  full  orb'd  Glory  yonder  Moon  divine 

Rolls  through  the  dark  blue  depths. 
Beneath  her  steady  ray 
The  desert  circle  spreads 
Like  the  round  Ocean,  girdled  with  the  sky. 

Jitgf)t.  —  Young. 
£)ARKNESS  has  divinity  for  me  j 

It  strikes  thought  inward ;  it  drives  back  the  Soul 
To  settle  on  herself,  our  point  supreme ! 
There  lies  our  Theatre  :  there  sits  our  judge. 
Darkness  the  curtain  drops  o'er  Life's  dull  scene; 
'Tis  the  kind  hand  of  Providence  stretch' d  out 
'Twixt  Man  and  Yanity  :  'tis  Reason's  reign, 
And  Virtue's  too ;  these  tutelary  shades 
Are  Man's  asylum  from  the  tainted  throng. 
Night  is  the  good  man's  friend,  and  guardian  too; 
It  no  less  rescues  Virtue,  than  inspires. 

iEt0!)t.  —  Shakspeare. 
T)ARK  Night,  that  from  the  Eye  his  function  takes, 

The  Ear  more  quick  of  Apprehension  makes ; 
Wherein  it  doth  impair  the  seeing  sense, 
It  pays  the  hearing  double  recompense. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  889 

Cfje  Jitirijt.  —  Young. 
"^"IGHT,  sable  Goddess !  from  her  ebon  throne, 

In  rayless  Majesty,  now  stretches  forth 
Her  leaden  sceptre  o'er  a  slumb'ring  world. 
Silence,  how  dead  !  and  Darkness,  how  profound ! 
Nor  eye,  nor  list'ning  ear,  an  object  finds ; 
Creation  sleeps.     'Tis  as  the  general  pulse 
Of  Life  stood  still,  and  Nature  made  a  pause ; 
An  awful  pause  !  prophetic  of  her  end. 

Cf)C  iRtgt)t  —  Young. 
T'HIS  sacred  Shade,  and  Solitude,  what  is  it  ? 

'Tis  the  felt  presence  of  the  Deity. 
Few  are  the  faults  we  flatter  when  alone. 
Vice  sinks  in  her  allurements,  is  ungilt, 
And  looks,  like  other  objects,  black  by  Night. 
By  Night  an  Atheist  half-believes  a  God. 

Cfje  i&tgf) t.  —  Young. 
TTOW  is  Night's  sable  mantle  labour'd  o'er, 

How  richly  wrought  with  attributes  divine  ! 
What  Wisdom  shines !  what  Love  !     This  Midnight  pomp, 
This  gorgeous  Arch,  with  golden  worlds  inlaid ! 
Built  with  divine  Ambition. 

Cije  isugfjtmgale,  —  shakspeare. 

'THE  Nightingale,  if  she  should  sing  by  day, 

When  every  Goose  is  cackling,  would  be  thought 
No  better  a  Musician  than  the  wren. 
How  many  things  by  season  season'd  are 
To  their  right  praise  and  true  Perfection  ! 

Cf)e  Jitgfjtmgale.—  Milton. 

Q  NIGHTINGALE,  that  on  yon  bloomy  spray 
Warblest  at  eve,  when  all  the  woods  are  still ; 

Thou  with  fresh  hope  the  Lover's  heart  doth  fill, 
While  the  jolly  hours  lead  on  propitious  May. 
Thy  liquid  notes  that  close  the  eye  of  Day, 

First  heard  before  the  shallow  Cuckoo's  bill, 

Portend  success  in  Love ;  Oh,  if  Jove's  will 
Have  link'd  that  amorous  power  to  thy  soft  lay, 

Now  timely  sing,  ere  the  rude  Bird  of  hate 
Foretell  my  hopeless  doom  in  some  grove  nigh ; 

As  thou  from  year  to  year  hast  sung  too  late 
For  my  relief,  yet  had'st  no  reason  why : 

Whether  the  Muse  or  Love  call  thee  his  mate, 
Both  them  I  serve,  and  of  their  train  am  I. 


390  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Cfje  Jitfljthijjale.— -MMm. 

Sweet  Bird  that  shunn'st  the  noise  of  folly, 
Most  musical,  most  Melancholy ! 

Cf)e  iBLigf)  tin  gale,  —  Southern. 
Thus  perch'd  all  Night  alone  in  shady  groves, 
Tunes  her  soft  voice  to  sad  complaints  of  Love, 
Making  her  life  one  great  harmonious  wo. 

i&OtnlttJ).  —  Spenser. 
^AIN-GrLORIOUS  Man,  when  fluttering  wind  does  blow 
In  his  light  winges,  is  lifted  up  to  skye ; 
The  scorne  of  Knighthood  and  trew  Chevalrye, 
To  thinke,  without  desert  of  gentle  deed, 
And  noble  worth,  to  be  advanced  hye, 
Such  Praise  is  shame;  but  Honour,  Vertue's  meed, 
Doth  bear  the  fayrest  flowre  in  honourable  seed. 

jEolulttn.—  Joanna  Baillie. 
Even  to  the  dullest  Peasant  standing  by, 
Who  fasten'd  still  on  him  a  wondering  Eye, 
He  seem'd  the  master  spirit  of  the  Land. 

i&Obeltg.  —  Shakspeare. 

New  Customs, 
Though  they  be  never  so  ridiculous, 
Nay,  let  them  be  unmanly,  yet  are  follow'd. 

<£atf)£u  —  Shakspeare. 
The  gods  are  deaf  to  hot  and  peevish  Vows ; 
They  are  polluted  Offerings,  more  abhorr'd 
Than  spotted  livers  in  the  Sacrifice. 

(©atf)0»  —  Shakspeare. 

Do  not  give  Dalliance 
Too  much  the  rein ;  the  strongest  Oaths  are  straw 
To  the  fire  i'  the  Blood ;  be  more  abstemious, 
Or  else ! 

<©atf)#.  —  Butler. 
r^ATHS  were  not  purposed,  more  than  Law, 

To  keep  the  good  and  just  in  awe, 
But  to  confine  the  bad  and  sinful, 
Like  moral  Cattle,  in  a  pinfold. 

(©foetlteitce.  —  Shakspeare. 
Let  them  obey  that  know  how  to  rule. 

(©fct&tettCC.  —  Goldsmith. 
17ILTAL  Obedience  is  the  first  and  greatest  requisite  of  a  State ; 
by  this  we  become  good  subjects  to  our  Emperors,  capable  of 


OR,    THIXG  S  NEW  AND   OLD.  391 

behaving  with  just  subordination  to  our  superiors,  and  grateful 
dependants  on  Heaven;  by  this  we  become  fonder  of  Marriage,  in 
order  to  be  capable  of  exacting  Obedience  from  others  in  our  turn  : 
by  this  we  become  good  Magistrates ;  for  early  Submission  is  the 
truest  lesson  to  those  who  would  learn  to  rule.  By  this  the  whole 
State  may  be  said  to  resemble  one  Family. 

(BMiqatimi.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
\\TE  are  always  much  better  pleased  to  see  those  whom  we  have 
obliged,  than  those  who  have  obliged  us. 

(DuSerbattcm.  —  Lavater. 
TTE  alone  is  an  acute  Observer,  who  can  observe  minutely  with 
out  being  observed. 

Ohserbatton.—  wm. 

T>ERHAPS  there  is  no  property  in  which  men  are  more  strikingly 
distinguished  from  each  other,  than  in  the  various  degrees  in 
which  they  possess  this  faculty  of  Observation.  The  great  herd  of 
mankind,  the  "  fruges  consumere  nati,"  pass  their  lives  in  listless  in- 
attention and  indifference  as  to  what  is  going  on  around  them,  being 
perfectly  content  to  satisfy  the  mere  cravirjgs  of  nature,  while  those 
who  are  destined  to  distinction  have  a  lynx-eyed  vigilauce  that 
nothing  can  escape.  You  see  nothing  of  the  Paul  Pry  in  them  ; 
yet  they  know  all  that  is  passing,  and  keep  a  perfect  reckoning,  not 
only  of  every  interesting  passage,  but  of  all  the  characters  of  the 
age  who  have  any  concern  in  them. 

Uulgat  (Dustmacj).  —  Swift. 

There  are  lew,  very  few,  that  will  own  themselves  in  a  Mistake. 

Small  (Offences.  —  Grevffle. 

A  VERY  Small  Offence  may  be  a  just  cause  for  great  Resent- 
ment; it  is  often  much  less  the  particular  instance  which  is 
obnoxious  to  us,  than  the  proof  it  carries  with  it  of  the  general 
tenor  and  disposition  of  the  Mind  from  whence  it  sprung. 

(©CCUpattOn.  —  Sir  PMip  Sidney. 
"PVERY  base  Occupation  makes  one  sharp  in  its  practice,  and 
dull  in  every  other. 

(DSlCC.  —  Shakspeare. 
'THOU  hast  seen  a  Farmer's  dog  bark  at  a  beggar  ? 

And  the  Creature  run  from  the  Cur  ? 
There  thou  might'st  behold  the  great  image  of  Authority  :  a  Dog'g 
obeyed  in  Office. 

(Df&Ce.  —  Shakspeare. 
Could  great  men  thunder 
As  Jove  himself  does,  Jove  would  ne'er  be  quiet, 

21 


S92  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

For  every  pelting,  petty  Officer 

Would  use  his  Heaven  for  thunder :  nothing  but  thunder.— 

Merciful  Heaven  ! 

Thou  rather,  with  thy  sharp  and  sulphurous  bolt, 

Split'sl.  the  unwedgeable  and  gnarled  Oak, 

Than  the  soft  Myrtle  !— Oh  !  but  Man,  proud  Man, 

Brest  in  a  little  brief  Authority — 

Most  ignorant  of  what  he's  most  assured, 

His  glassy  essence, — like  an  angry  Ape, 

Plays  such  fantastic  tricks  before  high  Heaven, 

As  make  the  Angels  weep. 

(©mtSStOn.  —  Shakspeare. 
Q MISSION  to  do  what  is  necessary 

Seals  a  commission  to  a  blank  of  Danger ; 
And  Danger,  like  an  ague,  subtly  taints 
Even  then  when  we  sit  idly  in  the  sun. 

(©prnton.— Swift, 

HPHAT  was  excellently  observed,  say  I,  when  I  read  a  passage  in 
an  Author,  where  his  Opinion  agrees  with  mine. 

Opttttmt.  —  Colton. 
TT  will  be  possible  to  have  one  set  of  Opinions  for  the  high,  and 
"*■  another  for  the  low,  only  when  they  cease  to  see  by  the  same 
Sun,  to  respire  by  the  same  Air,  and  to  feel  by  the  same  Senso- 
rium.  For  Opinions,  like  showers,  are  generated  in  high  places, 
but  they  invariably  descend  into  low  ones,  and  ultimately  flow 
down  to  the  People,  as  the  rains  unto  the  Sea. 

(Bpinitm.  —  Cicero. 
^"0  liberal  man  would  impute  a  charge  of  Unsteadiness  to  another 
for  having  changed  his  opinion. 

(©pportumtj).  —  Shakspeare. 

Take  the  instant  way ; 
For  Honour  travels  in  a  strait  so  narrow, 
Where  one  but  goes  abreast :  keep  then  the  path  : 
For  Emulation  hath  a  thousand  sons, 
That  one  by  one  pursue  :  If  you  give  way, 
Or  hedge  aside  from  the  direct  forthright, 
Like  to  an  enter'd  Tide,  they  all  rush  by, 
And  leave  you  hindmost; — 
Or,  like  a  gallant  Horse  fallen  in  first  rank, 
Lie  there  for  pavement  to  the  abject  rear, 
O'er-run  and  trampled  on. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND  OLD.  393 

Opportunity.  —  Shakspeare. 

TTNRULY  blasts  wait  on  the  tender  spring ; 

Unwholesome  weeds  take  root  with  precious  flowers ; 
The  Adder  hisses  where  the  sweet  birds  sing ; 

What  Virtue  breeds,  Iniquity  devours : 

We  have  no  good  that  we  can  say  is  ours : 
But  ill  annexed  Opportunity 
Or  kills  his  life,  or  else  his  quality. 

O  Opportunity  !  thy  G-uilt  is  great : 
'Tis  thou  that  execut'st  the  traitor's  Treason ; 

Thou  set'st  the  Wolf  where  he  the  Lamb  may  get; 
Whoever  plots  the  Sin,  thou  'point'st  the  Season ; 
'Tis  thou  that  spurn'st  at  right,  at  law,  at  reason; 
And  in  thy  shady  cell,  where  none  may  spy  him, 
Sits  Sin,  to  seize  the  Souls  that  wander  by  him. 
Thou  mak'st  the  Vestal  violate  her  oath  : 

Thou  blow'st  the  fire  when  Temperance  is  thaw'd ; 
Thou  smother'st  Honesty,  thou  murder'st  Troth ; 

Thou  foul  abettor  !  thou  notorious  bawd  ! 

Thou  plantest  Scandal  and  displacest  laud  : 
Thou  ravisher,  thou  Traitor,  thou  false  thief, 
Thy  Honey  turns  to  gall,  thy  joy  to  grief! 

Thy  secret  pleasure  turns  to  open  shame, 
Thy  private  feasting  to  a  public  fast ; 

Thy  smoothing  titles  to  a  ragged  name  ; 
Thy  sugar' d  tongue  to  bitter  Wormwood  taste : 
Thy  violent  Vanities  can  never  last. 
How  comes  it  then,  vile  Opportunity, 
Being  so  bad,  such  numbers  seek  for  thee  ? 

When  wilt  thou  be  the  humble  suppliant's  friend, 
And  bring  him  where  his  suit  may  be  obtain'd  ? 

When  wilt  thou  sort  an  hour  great  strifes  to  end  ? 
Or  free  that  soul  which  Wretchedness  hath  chain'd  ? 
Give  Physic  to  the  sick,  Ease  to  the  pain'd  ? 
The  poor,  lame,  blind,  halt,  creep,  cry  out  for  thee ; 
But  they  ne'er  meet  with  Opportunity. 
The  Patient  dies  while  the  Physician  sleeps; 

The  Orphan  pines  while  the  Oppressor  feeds; 
Justice  is  feasting  while  the  Widow  weeps; 

Advice  is  sporting  while  Infection  breeds ; 

Thou  grant'st  no  time  for  charitable  deeds; 
Wrath,  Envy,  Treason,  Rape,  and  Murder's  rages, 
Thy  heinous  hours  wait  on  them  as  their  pages. 

When  Truth  and  Virtue  have  to  do  with  Thee, 
A  thousand  crosses  keep  them  from  thy  aid; 


394  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

They  buy  thy  help  :  but  Sin  ne'er  gives  a  fee, 
He  gratis  comes  j  and  thou  art  well  appay'd, 
As  well  to  hear  as  grant  what  he  hath  said. 
Guilty  thou  art  of  Murder  and  of  Theft; 

Guilty  of  Perjury  and  Subornation  ; 
Guilty  of  Treason,  Forgery,  and  Shift ; 

Guilty  of  Incest,  that  abomination  : 

An  accessary  by  thine  inclination 
To  all  sins  past,  and  all  that  are  to  come, 
From  the  Creation  to  the  General  Doom. 

©PPOttimttg-  —  ShaJcspeare. 
'J'HERE  is  a  Tide  hf  the  affairs  of  men, 

Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  Fortune; 
Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  Life 
Is  bound  in  shallows,  and  in  miseries : 
And  we  must  take  the  Current  when  it  serves, 
Or  lose  our  ventures. 

(©PPOrtimttg.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

He  had  not  dined  : 
The  veins  unfill'd,  our  Blood  is  cold,  and  then 
We  pout  upon  the  morning,  are  unapt 
To  give  or  to  forgive :  but  when  we  have  stuff' d 
These  Pipes  and  these  conveyances  of  our  Blood 
With  wine  and  feeding,  we  have  suppler  Souls. 

©PPOttUttttg.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
A  little  Fire  is  quickly  trodden  out ; 
Which,  being  suffer'd,  rivers  cannot  quench. 

(©PPOrtimttJ),  —  Pliny. 
JJO  man  possesses  a  genius  so  commanding  that  he  can  attain 
Eminence,  unless  a  subject  suited  to  his  talents  should  present 
itself,  and  an  Opportunity  occur  for  their  development. 

(DpportUttttg,  —  Greville. 
'THERE  sometimes  wants  only  a  stroke  of  Fortune  to  discover 
numberless  latent  good  or  bad  qualities,  which  would  otherwise 
have  been  eternally  concealed  j   as  words  written  with  a  certain 
liquor  appear  only  when  applied  to  the  Fire. 

©pportUttttP.  —  From  the  Latin. 
OPPORTUNITY  has  Hair  in  front,  behind  she  is  bald ;  if  you 
seize  her  by  the  forelock,  you  may  hold  her,  but,  if  suffered  to 
escape,  not  Jupiter  himself  can  catch  her  again. 

(DppreSStCin.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
The  smallest  Worm  will  turn,  being  trodden  on  ; 
And  Doves  will  peck,  in  safeguard  of  their  brood. 


0  1?,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  39; 


©ppteSSCOn.  —  Shakspeare. 

You  must  not  think, 
That  we  are  made  of  stuff  so  flat  and  dull, 
That  we  can  let  our  Beard  be  shook  with  Danger, 
And  think  it  Pastime. 

(DppceSStOn.  —  Tacitus. 
A   DESIRE  to  resist  Oppression  is  implanted  in   the  nature  of 
A   Man. 

Cfje  (Drator.  — Pnor. 

AND  'tis  remarkable,  that  they 

Talk  most  that  have  the  least  to  say. 
Your  dainty  Speakers  have  the  curse, 
To  plead  their  causes  down  to  worse  : 
As  Dames,  who  native  Beauty  want, 
Still  uglier  look  the  more  they  paint. 

Cf)e  <&XatOt.  — Spenser. 
THEREFORE  the  vulgar  did  about  him  flocke, 

And  cluster  thicke  unto  his  leasings  vaine, 
(Like  foolish  Flies  about  an  Hony-crocke,) 
In  hope  by  him  great  benefite  to  gaine, 
And  uncontrolled  Freedome  to  obtaine. 

(DrtfCt  antJ  <&bt*tiimct.  —  S/tak.ycare. 
"WHILE  that  the  armed  Hand  doth  fight  abroad, 

The  advised  Head  defends  itself  at  home  : 
For  Government,  though  high,  and  low,  and  lower, 
Put  into  parts,  doth  keep  in  one  consent ; 
Congruing  in  a  full  and  natural  close, 

Like  Music 

Therefore  doth  Heaven  divide 
The  state  of  Man  in  divers  functions, 
Setting  endeavour  in  continual  motion; 
To  which  is  fixed,  as  an  aim  or  butt, 
Obedience  :  for  so  work  the  Honey-bees ; 
Creatures,  that,  by  a  rule  in  nature,  teach 
The  act  of  order  to  a  peopled  Kingdom. 
They  have  a  King,  and  Officers  of  sorts : 
Where  some,  like  Magistrates,  correct  at  home ; 
Others,  like  Merchants,  venture  trade  abroad; 
Others,  like  Soldiers,  armed  in  their  stings, 
Make  boot  upon  the  summer's  velvet  buds  • 
Which  pillage  they  with  meiry  march  bring  home 
To  the  tent-royal  of  their  Emperor  : 
Who,  bu>ied  in  his  Majesty,  surveys 
2i2 


396  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

The  singing  Masons,  building  roofs  of  gold  j 
The  civil  Citizens  kneading  up  the  honey ; 
The  poor  mechanic  porters  crowding  in 
Their  heavy  burdens  at  his  narrow  gate ; 
The  sad-eyed  Justice,  with  his  surly  hum, 
Delivering  o'er  to  executors  pale, 
The  lazy  yawning  Drone.     I  this  infer, — 
That  many  things,  having  full  reference 
To  one  consent,  may  work  contrariously : 
As  many  Arrows,  loosed  several  ways, 
Fly  to  one  mark  ; 

As  many  several  ways  meet  in  one  Town ; 
As  many  fresh  streams  run  in  one  self  Sea* 
As  many  lines  close  in  the  Dial's  centre ; 
So  may  a  thousand  actions,  once  afoot, 
End  in  one  purpose,  and  be  all  well  borne 
Without  defeat. 

(©rigtnalttg.  —  Coiton. 

1VTEN  of  strong  minds,  and  who  think  for  themselves,  should  not 
be  discouraged  on  finding  occasionally  that  some  of  their  best 
Ideas  have  been  anticipated  by  former  writers  j  they  will  neither 
anathematize  others  with  a  pereant  qui  ante  nos  nostra  dixerint, 
nor  despair  themselves.  They  will  rather  go  on  in  Science,  like 
John  Hunter  in  Physics,  discovering  things  before  discovered,  until, 
like  him,  they  are  rewarded  with  a  terra,  hitherto  incognita  in  the 
Sciences,  an  Empire  indisputably  their  own,  both  by  right  of  con- 
quest and  of  Discovery. 

(©rtgtttalttg.  —  Anon. 

They  who  have  Light  in  themselves,  will  not  revolve  as  Satellites. 

Ornament.  —  Shakspeare. 
TOEING-  season'd  with  a  gracious  voice, 

Obscures  the  show  of  evil.     In  Religion, 
What  damned  error,  but  some  sober  brow 
Will  bless  it,  and  approve  it  with  a  text, 
Hiding  the  grossness  with  fair  Ornament? 

^axatim.  —  3futon. 

"^JNDER  a  tuft  of  shade  that  on  the  green 

Stood  whisp'ring  soft,  by  a  fresh  Fountain  side 
They  sat  them  down ;  and  after  no  more  toil 
Of  their  sweet  gard'ning  labour  than  sufficed 
To  recommend  cool  Zephyr,  and  made  Ease 
More  easy,  wholesome  Thirst  and  Appetite 
More  grateful,  to  their  supper  fruits  they  fell. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  397 

parliaments. — Franklin. 

Tin?/  assemble  Parliaments  and  Councils,  to  have  the  benefit  of 
tneir  collected  Wisdom  ;  but  we  necessarily  have,  at  the  same 
*ime,  the  inconveniences  of  their  collected  passions,  prejudices,  and 
private  interests.  By  the  help  of  these,  artful  men  overpower  their 
Wisdom,  and  dupe  its  possessors. 

patting.  —  Shalspeare. 
What  !  gone  without  a  word? 
Ay,  so  true  Love  should  do  :  it  cannot  speak ; 
For  Truth  hath  better  deeds,  than  words,  to  grace  it. 

IPartg  SptCtt.  —  Washington. 
'THERE  is  an  opinion  that  Parties  in  free  countries  are  useful 
checks  upon  the  administration  of  the  government,  and  serve  to 
keep  alive  the  spirit  of  liberty.  This,  within  certain  limits,  is 
probably  true ;  and,  in  governments  of  a  monarchical  cast,  pa- 
triotism may  look  with  indulgence,  if  not  with  favour,  upon  the 
spirit  of  party.  But  in  those  of  the  popular  character,  in  govern- 
ments purely  elective,  it  is  a  spirit  not  to  be  encouraged.  From 
their  natural  tendency,  it  is  certain  there  will  always  be  enough  of 
that  spirit  for  every  salutary  purpose.  And  there  being  constant 
danger  of  excess,  the  effort  ought  to  be,  by  force  of  public  opinion, 
to  mitigate  and  assuage  it.  A  fire  not  to  be  quenched,  it  demands 
a  uniform  vigilance  to  prevent  it  bursting  into  a  flame,  lest,  instead 
of  warming,  it  should  consume. 

&f)e  ^aSStOnS.  —  Spenser. 
T^THAT  Warre  so  cruel,  or  what  siege  so  sore 
As  that  which  strong  affections  doe  apply 
Against  the  forte  of  Reason  evermore, 

To  bring  the  Soul  into  captivity  ? 

Their  force  is  fiercer  through  infirmity 
Of  the  fraile  Flesh,  relenting  to  their  rage, 

And  exercise  most  bitter  tyranny 
Upon  the  partes,  brought  into  their  bondage  : 
No  wretchedness  is  like  to  sinful  villenage. 

Ef)e  ^aSStOltg.  —  Byron. 
A  LAS  !  our  young  Affections  run  to  waste, 

Or  water  but  the  desert;  whence  arise 
But  weeds  of  dark  Luxuriance,  Tares  of  haste, 
Rank  at  the  core,  though  tempting  to  the  eyes, 
Flowers  whose  wild  odours  breathe  but  agonies, 
And  trees  whose  gums  are  poison;  such  the  plants 
Which  spring  beneath  her  steps  as  Passion  flies 
O'er  the  World's  wilderness,  and  vainly  pants 
For  some  celestial  fruit,  forbidden  to  our  wants. 


398         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Cf)e  tyamonz.—LMo. 

Exalted  souls, 
Have  Passions  in  proportion  violent, 
Resistless,  and  tormenting :  they're  a  tax 
Imposed  by  Nature  on  pre-eminence, 
And  Fortitude,  and  Wisdom  must  support  them. 

WtyZ  tyamonZ.  — Moore. 

A  LAS  !  too  well,  too  well  they  know, 

The  pain,  the  penitence,  the  Wo, 
That  Passion  brings  down  on  the  best, 
The  wisest  and  the  loveliest. 

Cf)e  ^asstoras.  —  Crabu. 

(}H  how  the  Passions,  insolent  and  strong, 

Bear  our  weak  minds  their  rapid  course  along; 
Make  us  the  madness  of  their  will  obey; 
Then  die,  and  leave  us  to  our  griefs  a  Prey ! 

Wi)Z  13a0!StOraL  —  Byron. 
CHE  stopt,  and  raised  her  head  to  speak,  but  paused 

And  then  moved  on  again  with  rapid  pace; 
Then  slacken'd  it,  which  is  the  march  most  caused 

By  deep  Emotion :  you  may  sometimes  trace 
A  feeling  in  each  footstep,  as  disclosed 

By  Sallust  in  his  Catiline,  who,  chased 
By  all  the  demons  of  all  Passions,  show'd 
Their  work  even  by  the  way  in  which  he  trode. 

Cfje  ^amonz.  — Burke. 

T  N  doing  good,  we  are  generally  cold,  and  languid,  and  sluggish ; 
and  of  all  things  afraid  of  being  too  much  in  the  right.  But 
the  works  of  Malice  and  Injustice  are  quite  in  another  style.  They 
are  finished  with  a  bold  masterly  hand ;  touched  as  they  are  with 
the  Spirit  of-  those  vehement  Passions  that  call  forth  all  our  Ener- 
gies, whenever  we  oppress  and  persecute. 

Cije  ItoStOttS.  —  Scott. 
TTIS  soul,  like  bark  with  rudder  lost, 

On  Passion's  changeful  tide  was  tost ; 
Nor  Vice  nor  Virtue  had  the  power 
Beyond  the  impression  of  the  hour; 
And  oh,  when  Passion  rules,  how  rare 
The  hours  that  fall  to  Virtue's  share. 

W§z  ^amanz.— Fuller. 

TTOLD  not  Conference,  debate,  or  Reasoning  with  any  Lust;    tis 
but  a  preparatory  for  thy  Admission  of  it.     The  way  is  at  the 
very  first  flatly  to  deny  it. 


0  /?,    T II IN  G  S   XE  W  A  XI)    0  L  D.  399 


Cf)e  $JaSStOnS.  —  Shaftesbury. 
A    MAX  is  by  nothing  so  much  himself,  as  by  his  Temperand  the 
character  of  his  Passions  and  Affections.     If  he  loses  what  is 
manly  and  worthy  in  these,  he  is  as  much  lost  to  himself,  as  when 
he  loses  his  Memory  and  Understanding. 

Ct)e  $as80tOW5.  —  Cumberland. 
TPHE  Passions  may  be  humoured  till  they  become  our  master,  as 
a  Horse  may  be  pampered  till  he  gets  the  better  of  his  rider ; 
but  early  discipline  will  prevent  Mutiny,  and  keep  the  helm  in  the 
hands  of  Reason. 

Cfje  passions.  —  miotson. 

TC~0  man's  body  is  as  strong  as  his  appetites,  but  Heaven  has  cor- 
rected the  boundlessness  of  his  voluptuous  desires  by  stinting 
his  strength  and  contracting  his  capacities. 

Cf)e  ^aSSUmS.  —  Byron. 
'THE  Nightingale  that  sings  with  the  deep  thorn, 

Which  Fable  places  in  her  breast  of  wail, 
Is  lighter  far  of  Heart  and  voice  than  those 
Whose  headlong  Passions  form  their  proper  Woes. 

Cije  ^88810110.  —  Claudian. 
TyHAT  profits  us,  that  we  from  Heaven  derive 

A  Soul  immortal,  and  with  looks  erect 
Survey  the  stars,  if,  like  the  brutal  kind, 
We  follow  where  our  Passions  lead  the  way  ? 

Qll)Z  ^aSStOTlS.—  La  Rochefoucauld. 
rrHE  Passions  are  the  only  orators  that  always  persuade  :  they  are, 
as  it  were,  a  natural  Art,  the  rules  of  which  are  infallible  ;  and 
the  simplest  man,  with  Passion,  is  more  persuasive  than  the  most 
eloquent  without  it. 

2Tf)e  $JaiS0tOtt0.  —  From  the  French. 
T'HE  Passions  act  as  Winds  to  propel  our  vessel,  our  Reason  is 
the  Pilot  that  steers  her;  without  the  Winds  she  would  not 
move,  without  the  Pilot  she  would  be  lost. 

Cfje  passions.  —  Sprat. 

T>ASSION  is  the  great  mover  and  spring  of  the  Soul ;  when  men's 
Passions  are  strongest,  they  may  have  great  and  noble  Effects; 
but  they  are  then  also  apt  to  fall  into  the  greatest  miscarriages. 

Cf)e  ¥a&«Ottg.—  Lavater. 

TJE  submits  to  be  seen  through  a  microscope,  who  suffers  himself 
to  be  caught  in  a  fit  of  Passion. 


400         IL  L  US  TR  A  TI 0 NS    0  F    TR  UTII; 

T&aWiim.  — Johnson. 

'THE  round  of  a  passionate  man's  life  is  in  contracting  debts  in 
his  Passion,  which  his  Virtue  obliges  him  to  pay.     He  spends 
his  time  in  Outrage  and  acknowledgment,  injury  and  Reparation. 

passions,  —  Coiton. 

DRINCES  rule  the  People ;  and  their  own  Passions  rule  Princes ; 
but  Providence  can  overrule  the  whole,  and  draw  the  instru- 
ments of  his  inscrutable  purpose  from  the  Vices,  no  less  than  from 
the  Virtues  of  Kings. 

^aS8tOtt0.  —  Longfellow. 
OUR  passions  never  wholly  die ;  but  in  the  last  cantos  of  life's 
romantic  epos,  they  rise  up  again  and  do  battle,  like  some  of 
Ariosto's  heroes,  who  have  already  been  quietly  interred,  and  ought 
to  be  turned  to  dust. 

Cf)0  <£0utl  ^agtOr,—  Byron. 
"PATHER !  thy  days  have  pass'd  in  peace, 

'Mid  counted  beads,  and  countless  Prayer; 
To  bid  the  sins  of  others  cease, 
Thyself  without  a  crime  or  care, 
Save  transient  ills  that  all  must  bear, 
Has  been  thy  lot,  from  Youth  to  Age. 

patience.— Fuller. 

JF  the  Wicked  flourish,  and  thou  suffer,  be  not  discouraged.  They 
are  fatted  for  Destruction  :  thou  are  dieted  for  Health. 

^attettce.  —  Shakspeare. 
How  poor  are  they  that  have  not  Patience  ! 
What  wound  did  ever  heal,  but  by  degrees  ? 

patience.  —  Shakspeare. 
Patience — 
Of  whose  soft  grace,  I  have  her  sovereign  aid, 
And  rest  myself  content. 

patience*  —  Shakspeare. 

I  DO  note, 
That  Grief  and  Patience,  rooted  in  him  both, 
Mingle  their  spurs  together. 

Grow,  Patience  ! 
And  let  the  stinking  elder,  Grief,  untwine 
His  perishing  root,  with  the  increasing  Vine  ! 

patriotism.  —  Shakspeare. 
[TAD  I  a  dozen  sons, — each  in  my  love  alike, — I  had  rather  haa 
eleven  die  nobly  for  their  county,  than  one  voluptuously  sur- 
feit out  of  Action. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW   AND    OLD.  401 

patriotism.  —  Sir  W.  Jones. 

What  constitutes  a  State  ? 
Not  high-raised  Battlerneat  or  labour'd  mound, 

Thick  wall  or  moated  Grate ; 
Not  cities  proud  with  spires  and  turrets  crown' d ; 

Not  bays  and  broad-arm'd  ports, 
Where,  laughing  at  the  storm,  rich  Navies  ride ; 

Not  starr'd  and  spangled  courts, 
Where  low-brow'd  baseness  wafts  perfume  to  Pride. 

No  : — men,  high-minded  ivien, 
With  Powers  as  far  above  dull  brutes  endued, 

In  forest,  brake,  or  den, 
As  beasts  excel  cold  rocks  and  brambles  rude ; 

Men,  who  their  Duties  know, 
But  know  their  Rights,  and  knowing,  dare  maintain, 

Prevent  the  long-aim'd  blow, 
And  crush  the  Tyrant,  while  they  rend  the  chain  : 

These  constitute  a  State. 

patriotism.— Pope. 

gTATESMAN,  yet  friend  to  Truth  !  of  soul  sincere, 

In  action  faithful,  and  in  Honour  clear  ! 
Who  broke  no  promise,  served  no  private  end, 
Who  gain'd  no  title,  and  who  lost  no  friend; 
Ennobled  by  himself,  by  all  approved, 
Praised,  wept,  and  honour'd  by  the  Muse  he  loved. 

^eace.  —  Shakspeare. 
'Tis  death  to  me,  to  be  at  Enmity; 
I  hate  it,  and  desire  all  good  men's  Love. 

^Jeace.  —Petrarch. 
T7IVE  great  enemies  to  Peace  inhabit  with  us,  viz.  Avarice,  Am- 
bition, Envy,  Anger,  and  Pride,  and  that  if  those  enemies  wero 
to  be  banished,  we  should  infallibly  enjoy  perpetual  Peace. 

^jJeace,  —  ShaJcspeare. 
I  do  not  know  that  Englishman  alive, 
With  whom  my  Soul  is  any  jot  at  odds, 
More  than  the  infant  that  is  born  to-night. 

feasant  Utfe.—  Goldsmith. 
nTHEIR  level  life  is  but  a  mould'ring  fire, 

Unquench'd  by  Want,  unfanu'd  by  strong  Desire : 
Unfit  for  raptures,  or,  if  raptures  cheer 
On  some  high  festival  of  once  a  year, 
In  wild  Excess  the  vulgar  breast  takes  fire, 
Till,  buried  in  debauch,  the  bliss  expire. 


402  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

feasant  ?itfe.  —  Fletcher. 
TTTS  bed  of  wool  yields  safe  and  quiet  sleeps, 

While  by  his  side  his  faithful  spouse  hath  place ; 
His  little  Son  into  his  bosom  creeps, 

The  lively  picture  of  his  father's  face  : 
Never  his  humble  house  nor  state  torment  him ; 
Less  he  could  like,  if  less  his  God  had  sent  him  ! 
And  when  he  dies,  green  turfs,  with  grassy  tomb,  content 
him. 

^enettattOn.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
V\nS  like  to  divine  others,  but  we  do  not  like  to  be  divined  our- 
selves. 

penetration.  —  Grwffle. 

PENETRATION  seems  a  kind  of  inspiration ;  it  gives  me  an 
idea  of  Prophecy. 

^ettetCattOn.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
pENETRATION  has  an  air  of  divination,  which  natters  our  Va- 
nity more  than  all  the  other  qualities  of  the  Mind. 

penetration.  —La  Rochefoucauld. 
HPHE  greatest  fault  in  Penetration  is  not  the  not  reaching  the 
mark,  but  overshooting  it. 

JioiSg  persons.—  Pope. 
TT  is  with  narrow-souled  people  as  with  narrow-necked  Bottles, 
the  less  they  have  in  them,  the  more  noise  they  make  in  pouring 
it  out. 

ItettretJ  persons.  —Goldsmith. 
TT  has  been  said  that  he  who  retires  to  solitude  is  either  a  Beast 
or  an  Angel.  The  censure  is  too  severe,  and  the  praise  un 
merited.  The  discontented  being  who  retires  from  society  is  gene- 
rally some  good-natured  man,  who  has  begun  his  Life  without 
Experience,  and  knew  not  how  to  gain  it  in  his  intercourse  with 
mankind. 

^erfeetton.  —  Voltaire. 

PERFECTION  is  attained  by  slow  degrees ;  she  requires  the  hand 
of  Time. 

^erfeettOn.  —  Shakspeare. 
In  speech,  in  gait, 
In  diet,  in  affections  of  delight, 
In  Military  rules,  humours  of  blood, 
He  was  the  Mark  and  glass,  copy  and  Book, 
That  fashion'd  others. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  403 

perfection.  —  Chesterfield. 
A  IM  at  Perfection  in  every  thing,  though  in  most  things  it  is  un- 
attainable.    However,  they  who  aim  at  it,  and  persevere,  will 
come  much  nearer  to  it  than  those  whose  Laziness  and  Despondency 
make  them  give  it  up  as  unattainable. 

perfection.  —  Shakspeare. 
TO  gild  refined  Gold,  to  paint  the  Lily, 

To  throw  a  perfume  on  the  Violet, 
To  smooth  the  Ice,  or  add  another  hue 
Unto  the  Rainbow,  or  with  taper-light 
To  seek  the  beauteous  eye  of  Heaven  to  garnish, 
Is  wasteful,  and  ridiculous. 

^lerseberance. — Lucretius. 

A  falling  Drop  at  last  will  cave  a  Stone. 

^erseberance.  —  From  the  Latin. 

TTE  will  never  enjoy  the  sweets  of  the  spring,  nor  will  he  obtain 
the  Honeycombs  of  Mount  Hybla,  if  he  dreads  his  face  being 
stuno;,  or  is  annoyed  by  Briers.     The  Rose  is  guarded  by  its  Thorn, 
the  Honey  is  defended  by  the  Bee. 

Verbetgttg GreoiUe. 

QOME  men  put  ine  in  mind  of  Half-bred  Horses,  which  often 
grow  worse  in  proportion  as  you  feed  and  exercise  them  for 
Improvement. 

13erbeCSttJ).  —From  the  Latin. 
We  have  all  a  propensity  to  grasp  at  Forbidden  Fruit. 

^3i)tlantl)C0P5.  —  Cumberland. 
TT  is  an  old  saying,  that  Charity  begins  at  home ;  but  this  is  no 
reason  it  should  not  go  abroad  :  a  man  should  live  with  the 
world  as  a  Citizen  of  the  World  j  he  may  have  a  preference  for  the 
particular  quarter  or  square,  or  even  alley  in  which  he  lives,  but 
he  should  have  a  generous  feeling  for  the  welfare  of  the  whole. 

^JfjtlOSOpjjetS.  —  Shakspeare. 
HPHERE  was  never  yet  Philosopher 

That  could  endure  the  Toothache  patiently, 
However  they  have  writ  the  style  of  Gods, 
And  made  a  push  at  chance  and  sufferance. 

^JfjtlOSOpfjJ).  —  ShaJcspeare. 
Adversity's  sweet  milk — Philosophy. 

13f)tU)g0pf)g.  —  Voltaire. 
rPHE  discovery  of  what  is  true,  and  the  practice  of  that  which  ih 
good,  are  the  two  most  important  objects  of  Philosophy. 

2K 


404  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

rPHE  Philosopher  will  draw  his  estimate  of  Human  Nature,  by 
varying  as  much  as  possible  his  own  situation,  to  multiply  the 
points  of  view  under  which  he  observes  her.  Uncircumscribed  by 
lines  of  latitude  or  of  longitude,  he  will  examine  her  "buttoned  up 
and  laced  in  the  forms  and  ceremonies  of  Civilization,  and  at  her 
ease,  and  unrestrained  in  the  light  and  feathered  Costume  of  the 
Savage."  He  will  also  associate  with  the  highest,  without  servility, 
and  with  the  lowest,  without  vulgarity. 

^f)tl0S0pf)g,  —  Epktetus. 
TT  is  the  peculiar  quality  and  character  of  an  undisciplined  man, 
and  a  Man  of  the  World,  to  expect  no  advantage,  and  to  appre- 
hend no  mischief  from  himself,  but  all  from  objects  without  him. 
Whereas  the  Philosopher,  quite  contrary,  looks  only  inward,  and 
apprehends  no  good  or  evil  can  happen  to  him,  but  from  himself 
alone. 

3P{)tlClSOpf)2*  —  Seneca. 
"PHILOSOPHY  is  the  art  and  law  of  Life,  and  it  teaches  us  what 
to  do  in  all  cases,  and,  like  good  Marksmen,  to  hit  the  white  at 
any  distance. 

3Pf)tlO0Opf)l).—  Cowley. 
'TO  be  a  Husbandman,  is  but  a  retreat  from   the  city ;  to  be  a 
Philosopher,  from  the  world,  as  it  is  Man's;  into  the  world,  as 
it  is  God's. 

^jUlOSOpfjp.  —  Seneca. 
"PHILOSOPHY  does  not  regard  pedigree :  she  did  not  receive 
Plato  as  a  noble,  but  she  made  him  so. 

3P{)tlCl80pf)J).  —  Selden. 
T^HEN  men  comfort  themselves  with  Philosophy,  'tis  not  because 
they  have  got  two  or  three  sentences,  but  because  they  have 
digested  those  sentences,  and  made  them  their  own  :  so  upon  the 
matter,  Philosophy  is  nothing  but  Discretion. 

$f)tlO0Opfjg*  —  Shaftesbury. 
T'O  philosophize  in  a  just  signification,  is  but  to  carry  Good  Breed- 
ing a  step  higher.  For  the  accomplishment  of  breeding  is,  to 
learn  what  is  decent  in  company,  or  beautiful  in  arts;  and  the  sum 
of  Philosophy  is,  to  learn  what  is  just  in  society,  and  beautiful  in 
Nature  and  the  order  of  the  world. 

^JjtlOSOplvj).  _  Tillotson. 
T3HIL0S0PHY  hath  given  us  several  plausible  rules  for  attain- 
ing Peace  and  Tranquillity  of  Mind,  but  they  fall  very  much 
short  of  bringing  men  to  it. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  405 


^fjtlOSOpfjJ),  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
PHILOSOPHY  triumphs  easily  over  past,  and  over  future  Evils, 
but  present  Evils  triumph  over  Philosophy. 

|Jf)tl(l0OpJB*—  Thomson. 

Philosophy  consists  not 
In  airy  schemes,  or  idle  speculations ; 
The  rule  and  conduct  of  all  social  life 
Is  her  great  Province.     Not  in  lonely  cells 
Obscure  she  lurks,  but  holds  her  heavenly  light 
To  Senates  and  to  Kings,  to  guide  their  councils, 
And  teach  them  to  reform  and  bless  mankind. 

^f)tl0S0pf);P-—  Pope. 
TN  lazy  Apathy  let  Stoics  boast 

Their  Virtue  fiVd ;  'tis  fix'd  as  in  a  frost ; 
Contracted  all,  retiring  to  the  breast ; 
But  strength  of  mind  is  exercise,  not  rest : 
The  rising  Tempest  puts  in  act  the  soul; 
Parts  it  may  ravage,  but  preserves  the  whole 

^f)tlO0O|)5t).—  Moore. 
OUCH  was  the  rigid  Zeno's  plan 
To  form  his  philosophic  man ; 
Such  were  the  modes  he  taught  mankind 
To  weed  the  Garden  of  the  mind  : 
They  tore  away  some  Weeds,  'tis  true, 
But  all  the  Flowers  were  ravish'd  too. 

^f)tl0S0pfj|).  —  ShaJcspeare. 
A  man,  whose  blood 
Is  very  Snow-broth  j  one  who  never  feels 
The  wanton  stings  and  motions  of  the  sense ; 
But  doth  rebate  and  blunt  his  natural  edge 
With  profits  of  the  mind,  Study  and  Fast. 

^MjtlOSOpf)]).  —  Moore. 
'J'HEN  far  be  all  the  Wisdom  hence, 

And  all  the  lore,  whose  tame  control 
Would  wither  joy  with  chill  delays  ! 
Alas  !  the  fertile  fount  of  sense, 

At  which  the  young,  the  panting  Soul 
Drinks  Life  and  Love,  too  soon  decays  ! 

^fjtlOSOpf)^.  —  Goldsmith. 
HTHIS  same  Philosophy  is  a  good  Horse  in  a  stable,  but  an  arrant 
Jade  on  a  joun; 


406  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

$3  f)tl0S0pj)g-  —  Shaftesbury. 
''TIS  not  wit  merely,  but  a  temper,  which  must  form  the  well- 
bred  man.     In  the  same  manner  'tis  not  a  Head  merely,  but  a 
Heart  and  Resolution,  which  complete  the  real  Philosopher. 

%$  fjgmogmimg.  —  Shdkspeare. 
The  devil  damn  thee  black,  thou  Cream-faced  Loon ! 
Where  got'st  thou  that  Groose  Look  ? 
OTptngttnmg.  —Addison. 
\\THEN"  I  see  a  man  with  a  sour,  rivell'd  face,  I  cannot  forbear 
pitying  his  Wife :  and  when  I  meet  with  an  open,  ingenuous 
countenance,  think  on  the  happiness  of  his  Friends,  his  Family, 
and  Relations. 

IPSgmognomjp.—  virgii. 

Trust  not  too  much  to  an  enchanting  face. 

33f)gStC  —  Bacon. 
"PHYSIC  is  of  little  use  to  a  temperate  person,  for  a  man's  own 
observation  on  what  he  finds  does  him  good,  and  what  hurts 
him,  is  the  best  physic  to  preserve  Health. 

^j)ggtC  —  Addison. 
"DHYSIC,  for  the  mo^t  part,  is  nothing  else  but  the  substitute  of 
Exercise  or  Temperance. 

pictures.  — Horace. 
A  Picture  is  a  Poem  without  words. 

ISbeq)  one  in  f)ts  $lace.  —  Greviiie. 

'THE  neglecting  to  put  yourself  above  those  that  ought  to  be  Infe- 
rior to  you,  will  often  be  as  disgustful  to  those  very  people,  as 
the  not  putting  yourself  under  those  who  ought  to  be  Superior  to 
you,  will  be  disgustful  to  them. 

plagiarism.  —  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
Plagiarists  are  always  suspicious  of  being  stolen  from. 

$i*afotng.— -  Percioal. 

THERE  is  too  much   reason  to  apprehend,  that  the  custom  of 
pleading  for    any  Client,  without  discrimination  of  right  or 
wrong,  must  lessen  the  regard  due   to  those  important  distinctions, 
and  deaden  the  Moral  Sensibility  of  the  Heart. 

pleasure.  —  Shakspeare. 
Flowers  are  like  the  Pleasures  of  the  world. 

^leaSUte.  —  Seneca. 
T  ET  not  the  enjoyment  of  Pleasures  now  within  your  grasp,  be 
carried  to  such  Excess,  as  to  incapacitate  you  from  future  re- 
petition. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW   A}  D    OLD.  407 


pleasure  —  Moore. 
PLEASURE'S  the  only  noble  end 

To  which  all  Human  powers  should  tend; 
And  Virtue  gives  her  heavenly  lore, 
But  to  make  Pleasure  please  us  more ! 
Wisdom  and  she  were  both  design'd 
To  make  the  senses  more  refined, 
That  man  might  revel  free  from  cloying, 
Then  most  a  sage,  when  most  enjoying! 

^leaSUte,  —  Byron. 
Though  sages  may  pour  out  their  Wisdom's  treasure, 
There  is  no  sterner  Moralist  than  Pleasure. 

pleasure.  —  Moore. 
0  Sages  !  think  on  joy  like  this, 
And  where's  your  boast  of  Apathy. 

pleasure.  —  Shakspeare. 
Why,  all  Delights  are  vain ;  but  that  most  vain, 
Which,  with  Pain  purchased,  doth  inherit  Pain. 

pleasure,  —  Spenser. 
TTIS  sports  were  fair,  his  Joyance  innocent, 

Sweet  without  soure,  and  Honey  without  gall; 
And  he  himself  seem'd  made  for  Merriment, 
Merrily  masking  both  in  Bower  and  Hall. 

pleasure.  —Fuller. 
Choose  such  Pleasures  as  recreate  much,  and  cost  little. 

_  T$Ua$VlXt.— Shakspeare. 
Who  riseth  from  a  feast, 
With  that  keen  Appetite  that  he  sits  down  ? 
Where  is  the  Horse  that  doth  untread  again 
His  tedious  measures  with  the  unbated  fire 
That  he  did  pace  them  first  ?     All  things  that  are, 
Are  with  more  spirit  chased  than  enjoy'd. 
How  like  a  younker,  or  a  Prodigal, 
The  scarf'd  bark  puts  from  her  native  bay, 
Hugg'd  and  embraced  by  the  strumpet  Wind ! 
How  like  the  Prodigal  doth  she  return, 
With  over-weather'd  ribs,  and  ragged  sails, 
Lean,  rent,  and  beggar'd. 

WUamxe.  —  Pope. 

Pleasure,  or  wrong  or  rightly  understood, 
Our  greatest  Evil,  or  our  greatest  Good. 
2k2 


408  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

^ieaSUte.  —  Shakspeare, 
TF  all  the  year  were  playing  Holidays, 

To  sport  would  be  as  tedious  as  to  work ; 
But  when  they  seldom  come,  they  wish'd-for  come, 
And  nothing  pleaseth  but  rare  Accidents. 

pleasure.—  Coiton. 

T^HE  seeds  of  Repentance  are  sown  in  youth  by  Pleasure,  but 
the  Harvest  is  reaped  in  age  by  Pain. 

pleasure.  —  Coiton. 

Pain  may  be  said  to  follow  Pleasure  as  its  shadow. 

WeaSXlte.  —  Chesterfield. 
T>LEASURE  is  a  necessary  Reciprocal :  no  one  feels,  who  does 
not  at  the  same  time  give  it.     To  be  pleased,  one  must  please. 
What  pleases  you  in  others,  will  in  general  please  them  in  you. 

pleasure.  —  Goldsmith. 

XTONE  has  more  frequent  conversations  with  disagreeable  self 
than  the  man  of  Pleasure ;  his  Enthusiasms  are  but  few  and 
transient;  his  Appetites,  like  angry  creditors,  continually  making 
fruitless  demands  for  what  he  is  unable  to  pay;  and  the  greater 
his  former  Pleasures,  the  more  strong  his  regret,  the  more  im- 
patient his  expectations. 

pleasure.  —  Coiton. 

IV/rENTAL  Pleasures  never  cloy )  unlike  those  of  the  body,  they 
are  increased  by  Repetition,  approved  of  by  Reflection,  and 
strengthened  by  Enjoyment. 

Ipfjetrg,  —  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
T>OETRY  has  been  to  me  its  own  exceeding  great  reward  :  it 
has  given  me  the  habit  of  wishing  to  discover  the  Good  and 
Beautiful  in  all  that  meets  and  surrounds  me. 

^Oettl).  —Anon, 
QO  entirely  do  great  Poets  soar  beyond  the  reach,  and  almost 
beyond  the  ken  of  their  own  Age,  that  we  have  only  lately 
begun  to  have  a  right  understanding  of  Shakspeare,  or  of  the 
masters  of  the  Greek  drama, — to  discern  the  principles  which 
actuated  them,  the  purposes  they  had  in  view,  the  laws  they  ac- 
knowledged, and  the  ideas  they  wished  to  impersonate. 

^rjetCg.  —  Shakspeare. 
HTHE  truest  Poetry  is  the  most  feigning ;  and  Lovers  are  given  to 
Poetry  ;  and  what  they  swear  in  Poetry,  may  be  said,  as  lovers 
they  do  feign. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  409 

^loettg*  —  Goldsmith. 

A  ND  thou,  sweet  Poetry,  thou  loveliest  maid, 
Still  first  to  fly  where  sensual  joys  invade  ! 
Unfit,  in  these  degenerate  times  of  Shame, 
To  catch  the  heart,  or  strike  for  honest  fame, 
Dear  charming  Nymph,  neglected  and  decried, 
My  shame  in  crowds,  my  solitary  Pride  ; 
Thou  source  of  all  my  bliss,  and  all  my  woe, 
That  found'st  me  poor  at  first,  and  keep'st  me  so ; 
Thou  Guide,  by  which  the  nobler  arts  excel, 
Thou  nurse  of  every  Virtue. 

T$QttZ$.—Mrs.  Tighe. 

rpO  charm  the  languid  hours  of  solitude 
He  oft  invites  her  to  the  Muse's  lore, 

For  none  have  vainly  e'er  the  Muse  pursued, 
And  those  whom  she  delights,  regret  no  more 
The  social,  joyous  hours,  while  rapt  they  soar 

To  worlds  unknown,  and  live  in  Fancy's  dream  : 
0  Muse  divine  !  thee  only  I  implore, 

Shed  on  my  Soul  thy  sweet  inspiring  beams, 

And  Pleasure's  gayest  scene  insipid  Folly  seems 

^OCtH).—  Jean  Paul. 
'THERE  are  so  many  tender  and  holy  Emotions  flying  about  in 
our  inward  world,  which,  like  angels,  can  never  assume  the 
body  of  an  outward  act ;  so  many  rich  and  lovely  Flowers  spring 
up  which  bear  no  seed,  that  it  is  a  happiness  Poetry  was  invented, 
which  receives  into  its  limbus  all  these  incorporeal  Spirits,  and  the 
Perfume  of  all  these  Flowers. 

^Jrjetrg.  —  Sir  William  Temple. 
HPHE  mind  of  man  is  like  the  Sea,  which  is  neither  agreeable  to 
the  beholder  nor  the  voyager,  in  a  calm  or  in  a  storm  ;  but  is 
so  to  both,  when  a  little  agitated  by  gentle  gales;  and  so  the  Mind, 
when  moved  by  soft  and  easy  Passions  and  Affections.  I  know 
very  well,  that  many,  who  pretend  to  be  wise  by  the  forms  of  being 
grave,  are  apt  to  despise  both  Poetry  and  Music,  as  toys  and  trifles 
too  light  for  the  use  or  entertainment  of  serious  men  :  but  whoever 
find  themselves  wholly  insensible  to  these  charms,  would,  I  think, 
do  well  to  keep  their  own  Council,  for  fear  of  reproaching  their  own 
temper,  and  bringing  the  goodness  of  their  natures,  if  not  of  their 
Understandings,  into  question  :  it  may  be  thought  at  least  an  ill  sign, 
if  not  an  ill  constitution  ;  since  some  of  the  Fathers  went  so  far  as 
to  esteem  the  love  of  music  a  sign  of  predestination  ;  as  a  thing 
divine,  and  reserved  for  the  felicities  of  Heaven  itself. 


ilO  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

30ttt$.—Pope. 
CAGES  and  chiefs  long  since  had  birth, 

Ere  Csesar  was,  or  Newton  named  ; 
These  raised  new  empires  o'er  the  earth ; 

And  those,  new  Heavens  and  systems  framed  : 
Vain  was  the  chiefs',  the  sages'  pride  ! 
They  had  no  Poet,  and  they  died. 
In  vain  they  schemed,  in  vain  they  bled  ! 
They  had  no  Poet,  and  are  dead. 

Cf)e  $0et—  Spenser. 
TTEAPS  of  huge  words  uphoorded  hideousiy, 

With  horrid  sound,  though  having  little  sense, 
They  think  to  be  chief  praise  of  Poetry, 

And  thereby  wanting  due  intelligence, 
Have  marr'd  the  face  of  goodly  Poesie, 
And  made  a  Monster  of  their  fautasie. 

Cf)e  $0et.  —  Catullus. 
gUFFENUS  has  no  more  wit  than  a  mere  Clown  when  he  attempts 
to  write  verses ;  and  yet  he  is  never  happier  than  when  he  is 
scribbling,  so  much  does  he  admire  himself  and  his  Compositions ; 
and,  indeed,  this  is  the  foible  of  every  one  of  us ;  for  there  is  no 
man  living  who  is  not  a  Sufifenus  in  one  thing  or  other. 

QLtytytot  —  Swift. 

THEN,  rising  with  Aurora's  light, 

The  Muse  invoked,  sit  down  to  write ; 
Blot  out,  correct,  insert,  refine, 
Enlarge,  diminish,  interline  ; 
Be  mindful,  when  Invention  fails, 
To  scratch  you  head,  and  bite  your  nails. 

Cf)e  ^Ott  —  Sir  W.  Temple. 
1V"0NE  ever  was  a  great  Poet  that  applied  himself  much  to  any 
thing  else. 

^OliCjD.  —  Greville. 

T  HAVE  heard  some  of  the  first  judges  of  Whist  say,  that  it  was! 

not  those  who  played  best  by  the  true  laws  of  the  game  that 

would  win  most,  but  those  who  played  best  to   the  false  play  of 

others ;  and  I  am  sure  it  is  true  of  the  great  Game  of  the  World 

^PultCJL  —  Shakspeare. 
Such  is  the  infection  of  the  time, 
That,  for  the  Health  and  Physic  of  our  Right 
We  cannot  deal  but  with  the  very  hand 
Of  stern  Injustice  and  confused  Wrong. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  411 

politeness.  —  Greviiu. 

A  S  Charity  covers  a  multitude  of  sins  before  God,  so  does  Polite- 
ness before  men. 

politeness.  —  Coitm. 

'THAT  Politeness  which  we  put  on,  in  order  to  keep  the  assuming 
and  the  presumptuous  at  a  prober  distance,  will  generally  suc- 
ceed. But  it  sometimes  happens,  that  these  obtrusive  characters 
are  on  such  excellent  terms  with  themselves,  that  they  put  down 
this  very  Politeness  to  the  score  of  their  own  great  Merits  and  high 
pretensions,  meeting  the  coldness  of  our  Reserve  with  a  ridiculous 
condescension  of  Familiarity,  in  order  to  set  us  at  ease  with  our- 
selves. 

IPoliteneSS.  —  Shaftesbury. 
A  LL  Politeness  is  owing  to  Liberty.     We  polish  one  another, 
and  rub  off  our  corners  and  rough  sides  by  a  sort  of  amicable 
collision.     To  restrain  this  is  inevitably  to  bring  a  rust  upon  men's 
Understandings. 

PoliteneSS.  —  Cumberland. 
"DOLTTENESS  is  nothing  more  than  an  elegant  and  concealed 
species  of  Flattery,  tending  to  put  the  person  to  whom  it  is 
addressed  in  Good-humour  and  Respect  with  himself:  but  if  there 
is  a  parade  and  display  affected  in  the  exertion  of  it,  if  a  man  seems 
to  say — Look  how  condescending  and  gracious  I  am  ! — whilst  he 
has  only  the  common  offices  of  civility  to  perform,  such  Politeness 
seems  founded  in  mistake,  and  this  mistake  I  have  observed  fre- 
quently to  occur  in  French  manners. 

%30liteneSS.  —  Monro. 
'T'O  the  acquisition  of  the  rare  quality  of  Politeness,  so  much  of 
the  enlightened  Understanding  is  necessary  that  I  cannot  but 
consider  every  Book  in  every  science,  which  tends  to  make  us  wiser, 
and  of  course  better  men,  as  a  treatise  on  a  more  enlarged  system 
of  Politeness,  not  excluding  the  Experiments  of  Archimedes,  or  the 
Elements  of  Euclid. 

STfje  populace.—  Shakspeare. 
rFHERE  have  been  many  Great  Men  that  have  flattered  the  Peo- 
ple, who  never  loved  them ;  and  there  be  many  that  they  have 
loved,  they  know  not  wherefore  :  so  that,  if  they  love  they  know 
not  why,  they  hate  upon  no  better  ground. 

Cl)e  ^Opulaee.  —  Shakspeare. 
YOU  common  cry  of  Curs  !   whose  breath  I  hate 
As  reek  o'  the  rotten  fens,  whose  loves  I  prize 
As  the  dead  Carcasses  of  unburied  men 
Thaf  do  corrupt  the  Air. 


412  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Cije  populace.  —  Cowper. 

COME  shout  him,  and  some  hang  upon  his  car 

To  gaze  in  's  eyes  and  bless  him.     Maidens  wave 
Their  'kerchiefs,  and  old  Women  weep  for  joy. 
While  others  not  so  satisfied  unhorse 
The  gilded  Equipage,  and  turning  loose 
His  Steeds,  usurp  a  place  they  well  deserve. 

Cf)e  populace.  —  Coiton. 

f  rHE  Mob  is  a  monster  with  the  hands  of  Briareus,  but  the  head 
of  Polyphemus — strong  to  execute,  but  blind  to  perceive. 

Cj)e  ^WUlatt.  — Shakspeare. 
T?OR  the  mutable,  rank-scented  Many,  let  them 

Regard  me  as  I  do  not  flatter,  and 
Therein  behold  themselves  :  I  say  again 
In  soothing  them,  we  nourish  'gainst  our  Senate 
The  cockle  of  Rebellion,  insolence,  sedition, 
Which  we  ourselves  have  ploughed  for,  sow'd  and  scatter'd, 
By  mingling  them  with  us,  the  honour' d  number; 
Who  lack  not  Virtue,  no,  nor  power,  but  that 
Which  they  have  given  to  Beggars. 

&f)e  populace.— Milton. 

What  is  the  People  but  a  Herd  confused, 
A  miscellaneous  Rabble,  who  extol 

Things  vulgar,  and  well  weigh'd,  scarce  worth  the  praise  ? 
They  praise,  and  they  admire  they  know  not  what, 
And  know  not  whom,  but  as  one  leads  the  other; 
And  what  delight  to  be  by  such  extoll'd, 
To  live  upon  their  Tongues,  and  be  their  talk, 
Of  whom  to  be  dispraised  were  no  small  Praise  ? 

Ct)e  populace.  —  Shakspeare. 
I  will  not  choose  what  many  men  desire, 
Because  I  will  not  jump  with  common  spirits, 
And  rank  me  with  the  barbarous  Multitude. 

Cf)e  populace,  —  Shakspeare. 

Our  slippery  People, 
Whose  love  is  never  link'd  to  the  Deserver, 
Till  his  deserts  are  passed. 

W§z  ^cpulace,  —  Coitm. 

TT  is  an  easy  and  a  vulgar  thing  to  please  the  Mob,  and  not  a 
very  arduous  task  to  astonish  them ;  but  essentially  to  benefit 
and    to    improve   them,   is   a  work  fraught   with   Difficulty,   and 
teeming  with  Danger. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  413 

Cfje  populate.— Shakspeare, 

The  fool  Multitude,  that  choose  by  show, 
Not  learning  more  than  the  fond  eye  doth  teach ; 
Which  pries  not  to  th'  interior,  but,  like  the  Martlet, 
Builds  in  the  Weather  on  the  outward  wall, 
Even  in  the  force  and  road  of  Casualty. 

Cf)e  populace.  —  Cowper. 

C\  POPULAR  Applause  !  what  heart  of  man 

Is  proof  against  thy  sweet  seducing  charms  ? 
The  wisest  and  the  best  feel  urgent  need 
Of  all  their  Caution  in  thy  gentlest  gales ; 
But  swell'd  into  a  gust — who  then,  alas  ! 
With  all  his  Canvas  set,  and  inexpert 
And  therefore  heedless,  can  withstand  thy  Power? 

Cf)e  populace.—  Bryden. 
'THE  Rabble  gather  round  the  Man  of  News, 

And  listen  with  their  mouths  wide  open;  some 
Tell,  some  hear,  some  judge  of  News,  some  make  it, 
And  he  that  lies  most  loud,  is  most  believed. 

Cje  populace.  —  Cicero. 
They  condemn  what  they  do  not  understand. 

Cf)e  populace.  —  Shakspeare. 
HTHEY'LL  sit  by  th'  fire,  and  presume  to  know 

What's  done  i'  the  Capitol :  who's  like  to  rise, 
Who  thrives,  and  who  declines  :  side  Factions,  and  give  out 
Conjectural  Marriages;   making  parties  strong, 
And  feebling  such  as  stand  not  in  their  liking, 
Below  their  cobbled  shoes. 

Cf)e  populate.  —  Shakspeare. 

Your  affections  are 
A  sick  man's  appetite,  who  desires  most  that 
Which  would  increase  his  Evil.     He  that  depends 
Upon  your  favours,  swims  with  fins  of  Lead, 
And  hews  down  Oaks  with  Rushes.     Hang  ye  !  Trust  ye  ? 
With  every  minute  you  do  change  a  mind; 
And  call  him  noble,  that  was  now  your  hate — 
Him  vile,  that  was  your  Garland. 

W§Z  populate.  —  Shakspeare. 
You  have  many  Enemies,  that  know  not 
Why  they  are  so,  but,  like  to  village  Curs, 
Bark  when  their  fellows  do. 


414  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

Cije  populace.  —  Shakspeare. 

What  would  you  have,  you  Curs, 
That  like  nor  Peace,  nor  War  ?  the  one  affrights  you, 
The  other  makes  you  proud.     He  that  trusts  you, 
Where  he  should  find  you  Lions,  finds  you  Hares ; 
Where  Foxes,  G-eese  :  you  are  no  surer,  no, 
Than  is  the  coal  of  fire  upon  the  Ice, 
Or  hailstone  in  the  Sun. 

Cf)e  populace*  —  Shakspeare. 
T  00  K,  as  I  blow  this  Feather  from  my  face, 

And  as  the  air  blows  it  to  me  again, 
Obeying  with  my  Wind  when  I  do  blow, 
And  yielding  to  another  when  it  blows, 
Commanded  always  by  the  greater  Gust ; 
Such  is  the  likeness  of  you  Common  Men. 

^OpUlarttg.  —  Shakspeare. 
A  N  habitation  giddy  and  unsure 

Hath  he  that  buildeth  on  the  Vulgar  Heart. 
Oh  thou  fond  Many !  with  what  loud  applause 
Did'st  thou  beat  Heaven  with  blessing  Bolingbroke, 
Before  he  was  what  thou  would' st  have  him  be ! 
And  now,  being  trimm'd  up  in  thine  own  desires, 
Thou,  beastly  Feeder,  art  so  full  of  him, 
That  thou  provokest  thyself  to  cast  him  up. 

^OpuiaUtg.  —  Spenser. 
AND  after  all  the  Raskall  Many  ran, 

Heap'd.  together  in  rude  Rablement, 
To  see  the  face  of  that  victorious  man, 
.   Whom  all  admired  as  from  Heaven  sent, 
And  gazed  upon  with  gaping  Wonderment. 

3|opularitg.  —  Scott. 
rFHEIR'S  was  the  glee  of  martial  breast, 

And  laughter  their' s  at  little  jest; 
And  oft  Lord  Marmion  deign'd  to  aid, 
And  mingle  in  the  mirth  they  made : 
For  though,  with  men  of  High  degree, 
The  proudest  of  the  Proud  was  he, 
Yet,  train' d  in  camps,  he  knew  the  art 
To  win  the  Soldier's  hardy  Heart. 

^OS0ej30tOtt.  —  Young. 
"POSSESSION,  why,  more  tasteless  than  pursuit  ? 

Why  is  a  wish  far  dearer  than  a  Crown  ? 
That  wish  accomplish'd,  why,  the  grave  of  Bliss? 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  415 

Because,  in  the  great  future  buried  deep, 
Beyond  our  plans  of  Empire  and  Renown, 
Lies  all  that  man  with  ardour  should  pursue ; 
And  He  who  made  him,  bent  him  to  the  right. 

$O00eSStOtt.  —  Shakspeare. 
It  so  falls  out, 
That  what  we  have  we  prize  not  to  the  worth, 
Whiles  we  enjoy  it;  but  being  lack'd  and  lost, 
Why,  then  we  rack  the  Value ;  then  we  find 
The  Virtue,  that  Possession  would  not  show  us 
Whiles  it  was  ours. 

3|OJ3teritg.  —  CoUon. 
V\TITH  respect  to  the  authority  of  great  names,  it  should  be  re- 
membered, that  he  alone  deserves  to  have  any  weight  or  in- 
fluence with  Posterity,  who  has  shown  himself  superior  to  the  par- 
ticular and  predominant  Error  of  his  own  times. 

^pObertg.  —  St.  Eoremond. 
AV^HEN  it  is  not  despicable  to  be  poor,  we  want  fewer  things  to 
live  in  Poverty  with  satisfaction,  than  to  live  magnificently 
xith  Riches 

^Obertg.— Drydm. 

TITANT  is  a  bitter  and  a  hateful  good, 

Because  its  Virtues  are  not  understood; 
Yet  many  things,  impossible  to  thought, 
Have  been  by  need  to  full  perfection  brought. 
The  daring  of  the  Soul  proceeds  from  thence, 
Sharpness  of  Wit,  and  active  Diligence ; 
Prudence  at  once,  and  Fortitude  it  gives; 
And,  if  in  patience  taken,  mends  our  lives. 

Itobtttg,—  Juvenal. 

Rarely  they  rise  by  Virtue's  aid,  who  lie 
Plunged  in  the  depth  of  helpless  Poverty. 

^Obcrtg.  —  Turkish  Spy. 
pOVERTY  eclipses  the  brightest  Virtues,  and  is  the  very  Sepul- 
chre of  brave  designs,  depriving  a  man  of  the  means  to  accom- 
plish what  Nature  has  fitted  him  for,  and  stifling  the  noblest  thoughts 
in  their  embryo.  Many  illustrious  Souls  may  be  said  to  have  been 
dead  among  the  living,  or  buried  alive  in  the  obscurity  of  their 
condition,  whose  perfections  have  rendered  them  the  darlings  of 
Providence,  and  companions  of  angels. 

2L 


416         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

^pObertg  atttf  HtCf)eS,  —  SJmkspeare. 

Twinn'd  brothers  of  one  womb, — 
Whose  procreation,  residence,  and  birth, 
Scarce  is  dividant, — touch  them  with  several  Fortunes; 
The  greater  scorns  the  lesser  :  Not  Nature, 
To  whom  all  lay  siege,  can  bear  great  fortune, 
But  by  contempt  of  Nature. 
Raise  me  this  Beggar,  and  denude  that  Lord; 
The  Senator  shall  bear  contempt  hereditary; 
The  Beggar  native  honour. 
It  is  the  pasture  lards  the  browser's  sides, 
The  want  that  makes  him  lean. 

^obertg  ants  2Mtssfccm\— Dekker. 

A  wise  man  poor, 
Is  like  a  Sacred  Book  that's  never  read ; 
To  himself  he  lives,  and  to  all  else  seems  dead. 

$otoer.— Coiton. 

T>OWER  will  intoxicate  the  best  hearts,  as  Wine  the  strongest 
heads.  No  man  is  wise  enough,  nor  good  enough  to  be  trusted 
with  unlimited  Power;  for,  whatever  qualifications  he  may  have 
evinced  to  entitle  him  to  the  possession  of  so  dangerous  a  privilege, 
yet,  when  possessed,  others  can  no  longer  answer  for  him,  because 
he  can  no  longer  answer  for  himself. 

^Otoet.  —  Coiton. 
T  ORD  BACON  has  compared  those  who  move  in  higher  spheres 
to  those  heavenly  bodies  in  the  Firmament,  which  have  much 
admiration,  but  little  rest.  And  it  is  not  necessary  to  invest  a  wise 
man  with  Power,  to  convince  him  that  it  is  a  garment  bedizened 
with  gold,  which  dazzles  the  beholder  by  its  Splendour,  but  op- 
presses the  wearer  by  its  Weight. 

dormant  ^otoer,  —  Swift. 

A  LTHOUGrH  men  are  accused  for  not  knowing  their  own  Weak- 
ness, yet  perhaps  as  few  know  their  own  Strength.     It  is  in 
men  as  in  soils,  where  sometimes  there  is  a  vein  of  Gold,  which  the 
owner  knows  not  of. 

^Potoer  ant*  %ibztty.  —  Saviiie. 

"DOWER  and  Liberty  are  like  Heat  and  Moisture;  where  they 
are  well  mixt,  every  thing  prospers;  where  they  are  single, 
they  are  destructive. 

^atSe.  —  Fuller. 
THOU  may'st  be  more  prodigal  of  Praise  when  thou  writest  a 
letter  than  when  thou  speakest  in  presence. 


OR,   THINGS    NEW  AND     OLD.  417 

ftafee Young. 

'THE  love  of  Praise,  howe'er  conceal'd  by  art, 

Reigns,  more  or  less,  and  glows  in  every  Heart : 
The  proud,  to  gain  it,  toils  on  toils  endure. 
The  modest  shun  it  but  to  make  it  sure. 

^ratSe,—  Spenser. 
(^)R  who  would  ever  care  to  do  brave  deed, 

Or  strive  in  Virtue  others  to  excel, 
If  none  should  yield  him  his  deserved  meed, 

Due  Praise,  that  is  the  spur  of  doing  well  ? 
For  if  Good  were  not  praised  more  than  ill, 
None  would  chuse  Goodness  of  his  own  free  will. 

^Catge.  —  Steele. 

A  LLOW  no  man  to  be  so  free  with  you  as  to  praise  you  to  your 

Face.     Your  Vanity  by  this  means  will  want  its  food.     At 

the  same  time  your  passion  for  esteem  will  be  more  fully  gratified; 

men  will  praise  you  in  their  actions :  where  you  now  receive  one 

Compliment,  you  will  then  receive  twenty  Civilities. 

tytaiSt.  — Fuller. 
T>RAISE  not  people  to  their  faces,  to  the  end  that  they  may  pay 
thee  in  the  same  Coin.     This  is  so  thin  a  Cobweb,  that  it  may 
with  little  difficulty  be  seen  through  ;  'tis  rarely  strong  enough  to 
catch  flies  of  any  considerable  magnitude. 

tywiXt.—From  the  Latin. 
TT  is  the  greatest  possible  Praise  to  be  praised  by  a  man  who  is 
himself  deserving  of  Praise. 

$)  C  a  t  g  Z .  —  Shakspeare. 
THE  worthiness  of  Praise  distains  his  worth, 

If  that  the  praised  himself  bring  the  Praise  forth  : 
But  what  the  repining  enemy  commends, 
That  breath  Fame  follows;  that  Praise,  sole  pure,  transcends. 

praise.—  Greviiu. 

rrHOSE  men  who  are  commended  by  everybody,  must  be  very 
extraordinary  men ;  or,  which  is  more  probable,  very  inconsider- 
able men. 

^tapeC—  H.  More. 
T^OUNTAIN'  of  Mercy  !  whose  pervading  eye 
Can  look  within  and  read  what  passes  there, 
Accept  my  thoughts  for  thanks  :   I  have  no  words. 
My  soul,  o'erfraught  with  Gratitude,  rejects 
The  aid  of  Language — Lord  !  behold  my  Heart. 


418  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

^rapCC  —  Fuller. 
T  EAVE  not  off  praying  to  God  :  for  either  praying  will  make 
thee  leave  off  sinning ;  or  continuing  in  Sin  will  make  thee 
desist  from  praying. 

l3^3J)0t.  —  Archibald  Alexander. 
TT  is  as  natural  and  reasonable  for  a  dependent  creature  to  apply 
to  its  Creator  for  what  it  needs,  as  for  a  child  thus  to  solicit  the 
aid  of  a  parent  who  is  believed  to  have  the  disposition  and  ability  to 
bestow  what  it  needs. 

Stager.  —  Thomson. 
RATHER  of  Light  and  Life  !  thou  Good  Supreme  ! 

Oh  teach  me  what  is  good  !  teach  me  thyself ! 
Save  me  from  Folly,  Vanity,  and  Vice, 
From  every  low  pursuit !  and  feed  my  Soul 
With  Knowledge,  conscious  Peace,  and  Virtue  pure; 
Sacred,  substantial,  never-fading  Bliss  ! 

Stager Shakspeare. 

"POR  holy  offices  I  have  a  time  ;  a  time 

To  think  upon  the  part  of  business,  which 
I  bear  i'  the  State  ;  and  Nature  does  require 
Her  times  of  preservation,  which  perforce, 
I,  her  frail  son,  amongst  my  brethren  mortal, 
Must  give  my  tendance  to. 

Ipraget*  —  Shakspeare. 
T  END  me  a  Heart  replete  with  thankfulness ! 

For  thou  hast  given  me  in  this  beauteous  face, 
A  world  of  earthly  blessings  to  my  Soul, 
If  sympathy  of  Love  unite  our  thoughts. 

Stager.  —  Shakspeare. 
Q  ENGLAND  ! — model  to  thy  inward  greatness, 

Like  little  body  with  a  mighty  Heart, — 
What  might'st  thou  do,  that  Honour  would  thee  do 
Were  all  thy  children  kind  and  natural ! 

IJJrmpt.  —  Shakspeare. 
"T)0  not,  as  some  ungracious  Pastors  do, 

Show  me  the  steep  and  thorny  way  to  Heaven ; 
Whilst,  like  a  puff'd  and  reckless  libertine, 
Himself  the  primrose  path  of  Dalliance  treads, 
And  recks  not  his  own  read. 

^tecept.—  Anon. 
QNE  of  the  saddest  things  about  Human  Nature  is,  that  a  man 
may  guide  others  in  the  path  of  Life,  without  walking  in  it 
himself;  that  he  may  he  a  Pilot,  aud  yet  a  castaway. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  419 


TgHttt$t.  —  CoUan, 

TT  was  observed  of  the  Jesuits,  that  they  constantly  inculcated  a 
thorough  contempt  of  worldly  things  in  their  Doctrines,  but 
eagerly  grasped  at  thein  in  their  Lives.  They  were  "  wise  in  their 
generation/'  for  they  cried  down  Worldly  things,  because  they 
wanted  to  obtain  them,  and  cried  up  Spiritual  things,  because  they 
wanted  to  dispose  of  them. 

precept  aria  ISxample.—  Johnson. 

"WDTHINGr  is  more  unjust,  however  common,  than  to  charge 
with  Hypocrisy  him  that  expresses  zeal  for  those  Virtues 
which  he  neglects  to  practise ;  since  he  may  be  sincerely  convinced 
of  the  advantages  of  conquering  his  Passions,  without  having  yet 
obtained  the  Victory ;  as  a  man  may  be  confident  of  the  advantages 
of  a  voyage  or  a  journey,  without  having  Courage  or  Industry  to 
undertake  it,  and  may  honestly  recommend  to  others  those  at- 
tempts which  he  neglects  himself. 

precept  anti  ISiampie.—  Shakspeare. 

TF  to  do  were  as  easy  as  to  know  what  were  good  to  do,  Chapels 
had  been  Churches,  and  poor  men's  cottages  princes'  palaces. 
It  is  a  good  Divine  that  follows  his  own  instructions;  I  can  easier 
teach  twenty  what  were  good  to  be  done,  than  be  one  of  the  twenty 
to  follow  mine  own  teaching. 

Cf)e  precipice.  —  Shakspeare. 
rFHE  very  place  puts  toys  of  Desperation, 
Without  more  motive,  into  every  brain, 
That  looks  so  many  fathoms  to  the  Sea, 
And  hears  it  roar  beneath. 

\ymivitaiK1).— Shakspeare. 
TTEAT  not  a  Furnace  for  your  foe  so  hot, 

That  it  do  singe  yourself.     We  may  out-run 
By  violent  swiftness,  that  which  we  run  at ; 
And  lose  by  over-running:  know  you  not, 
The  Fire  that  mounts  the  Liquor  'till't  run  o'er, 
Seeming  t'  augment  it,  wastes  it  ? 

WujUllice.—  Grevillc. 
COME  Prejudices  are  to  the  mind  what  the  Atmosphere  is  to  the 
body;  we  cannot  feel  without  the  one,  nor  breathe  without  the 
other. 

^tejllulCe.—  Greville. 
"REMOVING    Prejudices,    is,    alas  !    too    often    removing    the 
boundary  of  a  delightful  near  prospect,  in  order  to  let  in  a 
shocking  extensive  one. 

2l2 


4110  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

^tCJUtltCe.  —  Tucker. 
'THERE  are  habits  of  Misapprehension  and  misjudging,  common 
among  all  degrees  of  men ;  Fretfulness,  industrious  to  seek  or 
even  feign  and  chew  upon  matter  that  may  nourish  it;  Captious- 
ness,  ingenious  in  perverting  the  meaning  of  words;  Partiality, 
warping  every  thing  to  its  own  purpose ;  Censoriousness,  unable 
to  discern  a  bright  part  in  characters ;  Self-conceit,  averse  to 
discern  the  real  motives  of  acting;  Melancholy,  augurating  always 
for  the  worst ;  besides  many  more,  some  of  which  I  am  afraid 
every  man  may  find  lurking  in  his  own  breast,  if  he  will  but  look 
narrowly  enough. 

^rejUfctCe.  —  Terence. 
TUMAN  nature  is  so  constituted,  that  all  see,  and  judge  better, 
in  the  Affairs  of  other  men,  than  in  their  own. 

^IrejUtUCe.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
T\/"E  seldom  find  persons  whom  we  acknowledge  to  be  possessed 
of  Good  Sense,  except  those  who  agree  with  us  in  opinion. 

$tefttfctCe.— -GremOe. 

rrO  divest  one's  self  of  some  Prejudices,  would  be  like  taking  off 
the  skin  to  feel  the  better. 

Cf)e  present.—  Horace. 
A  BRIDGE  your  Hopes  in  proportion  to  the  shortness  of  the 
span  of  Human  Life;  for  while  we  converse,  the  hours,  as  if 
envious  of  our   Pleasure,  fly  away  :    enjoy  therefore   the  present 
time,  and  trust  not  too  much  to  what  to-morrow  may  produce. 

Cije  ^regent  —Horace. 
TN  the  midst  of  Hopes  and  Cares,  of  Apprehensions  and  of  Dis- 
quietude, regard  every  day  that  dawns  upon  you  as  if  it  was  to 
be  your  last;  and  superadded  hours,  to  the  enjoyment  of  which 
you  had  not  looked  forward,  will  prove  an  acceptable  boon. 

W$z  present— Fuller. 

rFRY  to  be  happy  in  this  very  present  Moment ;  and  put  not  off 
being  so  to  a  Time  to  come  :  as  though  that  Time  should  be 
of  another  make  from  this,  which  is  already  come,  and  is  ours. 

3It)c  present.  —  Coiton. 

"YTEN  spend  their  lives  in  Anticipations,  in  determining  to  be 
vastly  happy  at  some  period  or  other,  when  they  have  time. 
But  the  present  time  has  one  advantage  over  every  other — it  is  our 
own.  Past  opportunities  are  gone,  future  are  not  come.  We  may 
lay  in  a  stock  of  Pleasures,  as  we  would  lay  in  a  stock  of  Wine ; 
but  if  we  defer  the  tasting  of  them  too  long,  we  shall  find  that  both 
are  soured  by  age. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  421 

Clje  present.—  Armstrong. 
T\7"HAT  avails  it  that  indulgent  Heaven 

From  mortal  Eyes  has  wrapt  the  woes  to  come, 
If  we,  ingenious  to  torment  ourselves, 
Grow  pale  at  hideous  Fictions  of  our  own  ? 
Enjoy  the  Present;  nor  with  needless  cares 
Of  what  may  spring  from  blind  Misfortune's  womb, 
Appal  the  surest  hour  that  life  bestows. 
Serene,  and  master  of  yourself,  prepare 
For  what  may  come ;  and  leave  the  rest  to  Heaven. 

Wi)z  present  anti  \%t  Internal.  —  Coiton. 

TF  indeed  that  marvellous  microcosm,  Man,  with  all  the  costly  cargo 
of  his  faculties  and  powers,  were  indeed  a  rich  Argosy,  fitted 
out  and  freighted  only  for  Shipwreck  and  Destruction,  who  amongst 
us  that  tolerate  the  Present  only  from  the  Hope  of  the  Future,  who 
that  have  any  aspirings  of  a  high  and  intellectual  Nature  about 
them,  could  be  brought  to  submit  to  the  disgusting  Mortifications 
of  the  voyage  ?  As  to  the  common  and  the  sensual  herd,  who 
would  be  glad,  perhaps,  under  any  terms,  to  sweat  and  groan  be- 
neath the  load  of  Life,  they  would  find  that  the  creed  of  the  Mate- 
rialist would  only  give  a  fuller  swing  to  the  suicidal  energies  of  a 
Selfism  as  unprincipled  as  unrelenting;  a  Selfism  that  would  not 
only  make  that  giftless  Gift  of  Life  a  boon  the  most  difficult  to  pre- 
serve, but  would  at  the  same  time  render  it  wholly  unworthy  of  the 
task  and  the  trouble  of  its  preservation.  Knowledge  herself,  that 
fairest  daughter  of  Heaven,  would  be  immediately  transformed  into 
a  changeling  of  Hell;  the  brightest  Reason  would  be  the  blackest 
Curse,  and  Weakness  more  salutary  than  Strength  ;  for  the  Villany 
of  man  would  increase  with  the  Depravity  of  his  will,  and  the  de- 
pravity of  his  'will  with  every  augmentation  of  his  Power.  The 
force  of  Intellect  imparted  to  that  which  was  corrupt,  would  be  like 
the  destructive  energies  communicated  by  an  Earthquake  to  that 
which  is  inert;  where  even  things  inanimate,  as  rocks  and  moun- 
tains, seem  endowed  with  a  momentary  impulse  of  motion  and  Life, 
only  to  overwhelm,  to  destroy,  and  to  be  destroyed. 

jBatvtng  presents.  —  Fuller. 

\"\THEN  thou  makest  Presents,  let  them  be  of  such  things  as  will 
last  long;   to  the  end  they  may  be  in  some  sort  immortal,  and 
may  frequently  refresh  the  Memory  of  the  Receiver. 

Cfje  WxtteriHtt.—Shakspeare. 

This  is  some  fellow, 
Who,  having  been  praised  for  Bluntness,  doth  affect 
A  saucy  Roughness;  and  constrains  the  garb, 


422  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Quite  from  his  Nature  :  He  cannot  flatter,  he  ! — 

An  honest  nrind  and  plain, — he  must  speak  Truth  : 

An  they  will  take  it,  so;  if  not,  he's  plain. 

These  kind  of  Knaves  I  know,  which  in  this  plainness 

Harbour  more  craft  and  more  corrupter  ends, 

Than  twenty  silly  ducking  Observants, 

That  stretch  their  duties  nicely. 

pretension.  —  Lavater. 
TTE  who  gives  himself  airs  of  Importance,  exhibits  the  credentials 
of  Impotence. 

WXZtZV&iQn.— Johnson. 

TT  is  the  care  of  a  very  great  part  of  Mankind  to  conceal  their  in- 
digence from  the  rest.     They  support  themselves  by  temporary 
Expedients,  and  every  day  is  lost  in  contriving  for  to-morrow. 

^tetenStOn.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
The  desire  of  appearing  Clever  often  prevents  our  becoming  so. 

pretension.  — Cicero. 

'TRUE  Glory  strikes  root,  and  even  extends  itself;  all  false  Pre- 
tensions fall  as  do  Flowers,  nor  can  any  thing  feigned  be  lasting 

pretension.  —Plutarch. 
TT  is  no  Disgrace  not  to  be  able  to  do  every  thing ;   but  to  under- 
take, or  pretend  to  do,  what  you  are  not  made  for,  is  not  only 
Shameful,  but  extremely  Troublesome  and  Vexatious. 

pretension.—  Lavater. 
T^THERE  there  is  much  Pretension,  much  has  been  borrowed  : 
Nature  never  pretends. 

^titLt.—Anon, 

'TO  no  kind  of  begging  are  people  so  averse,  as  to  begging  Par- 
don ;   that  is,  when  there  is  any  serious  ground  for  doing  so. 
When  there  is  none,  this  phrase  is  as  soon  taken  in  vain,  as  other 
momentous  words  are  upon  light  Occasions. 

^ritje.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTE  that  is  proud,  eats  up  himself:  Pride  is  his  own  Glass,  his 
own  Trumpet,  his  own  Chronicle  ;  and  whatever  praises  itself 
but  in  the  deed,  devours  the  deed  in  the  Praise. 

^ritie.  —  Clarendon. 
Y\TITHOUT  the  sovereign  influence  of  God's  extraordinary  and 
immediate  Grace,  men  do  very  rarely  put  off  all  the  trappings 
nf  their  Pride,  till  they  who  are  about  them  put  on  their  winding- 
sheet. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  423 

$tfte*  —  QotUm. 

T3RIDE  is  a  paradoxical  Proteus,  eternally  diverse  yet  ever  the 
same  ;  for  Plato  adopted  a  most  magnificent  mode  of  displaying 
bis  Contempt  for  Magnificence,  while  Neglect  would  have  restored 
Diogenes  to  common  sense  and  clean  linen,  since  he  would  have 
had  no  Tub,  from  the  moment  he  had  no  Spectators.  "Thus  I 
trample/'  said  Diogenes,  "  on  the  pride  of  Plato."  "But,"  rejoined 
Plato,  "  with  greater  pride,  0  Diogenes." 

Wxitlt.  —  Grevffle. 

A    PROUD  man  never  shows  his  Pride  so  much  as  when  he  is 
civil. 

^Jritie.  —  Shakspeare. 

Pride  hath  no  other  Glass 
To  show  itself,  but  Pride ;  for  supple  knees 
Feed  Arrogance,  and  are  the  Proud  Man's  fees. 

Vxilit.  —  Skenstone. 
AT  EN  are  sometimes  accused  of  Pride  merely  because  their  ac- 
cusers would  be  proud  themselves  if  they  were  iu  their  places. 

}3tttie.  —  Cotton. 
■THERE  is  this  paradox  in  Pride, — it  makes  some  men  ridiculous, 
but  prevents  others  from  becoming  so. 

V^C  —  Selden. 
T>RIDE  may  be  allowed  to  this  or  that  degree,  else  a  man  cannot 
keep  up  his  Dignity.  In  Gluttony  there  must  be  eating,  in 
Drunkeuness  there  must  be  drinking;  'tis  not  the  eating,  nor  'tis 
not  the  drinking  that  must  be  blamed,  but  the  Excess.  So  in 
Pride. 

Wtitlt.  —  Greville. 

T>RIDE  is  a  Virtue — let  not  the  moralist  be  scandalized — Pride 
is  also  a  Vice.  Pride,  like  Ambition,  is  sometimes  virtuous 
and  sometimes  vicious,  according  to  the  character  in  which  it  is 
found,  and  the  object  to  which  it  is  directed.  As  a  Principle,  it  is 
the  Parent  of  almost  every  Virtue,  and  every  Vice, — every  thing 
that  pleases  and  displeases  in  mankind ;  and  as  the  effects  are  so 
very  different,  nothing  is  more  easy  than  to  discover,  even  to  our- 
selves, whether  the  Pride  that  produces  them  is  virtuous  or  vicious  : 
the  first  object  of  virtuous  Pride  is  Rectitude,  and  the  next  Inde- 
pendence. 

VUHC  — Cotton. 
Pride  requires  very  costly  food— its  keeper's  Happiness. 


1-24  ILL  US  TRA  TIONS    OF    TR  UTII; 

XHlbt.—  Colton. 
T'O  quell  the  Pride,  even  of  the  greatest,  we  should  reflect  how 
much  we  owe  to  others,  and  how  little  to  ourselves.  Philip 
having  made  himself  master  of  Potidoea,  received  three  Messengers 
in  one  day :  the  first  brought  him  an  account  of  a  great  Victory, 
gained  over  the  Illyrians,  by  his  General  Parmenio ;  the  second 
told  him,  that  he  was  proclaimed  Victor  at  the  Olympic  games  ; 
and  the  third  informed  him  of  the  birth  of  Alexander.  But  there 
was  nothing  in  all  these  events  that  ought  to  have  fed  the  Vanity, 
or  that  would  have  justified  the  Pride,  of  Philip,  since,  as  an  ele- 
gant writer  remarks,  "  for  the  first  he  was  indebted  to  his  General; 
for  the  second,  to  his  Horse ;  and  his  Wife  is  shrewdly  suspected 
of  having  helped  him  to  the  third." 

$H*ttlC.  —  Shakspeare. 
T  WILL  from  henceforth  rather  be  myself, 

Mighty,  and  to  be  fear'd,  than  my  condition*, 
Which  hath  been  smooth  as  Oil,  soft  as  young  Down, 
And  therefore  lost  that  title  of  Respect, 
Which  the  proud  Soul  ne'er  pays,  but  to  the  Proud. 

^rocrastmatton.—  Young. 

Be  wise  to-day  •  'tis  Madness  to  defer ; 
Next  day  the  fatal  precedent  will  plead ; 
Thus  on,  till  Wisdom  is  push'd  out  of  Life. 

^roctastmatton.  —  miotson. 

HTO  be  always  intending  to  live  a  new  Life,  but  never  to  find  time 
to  set  about  it :  this  is  as  if  a  man  should  put  off"  Eating,  and 
Drinking,  and  Sleeping,  from  one  day  and  night  to  another,  till  he 
is  starved  and  destroyed. 

^Jnicrastmatum.  —  Persms. 

Corn.  Unhappy  he,  who  does  his  work  adjourn, 
And  to  To-morrow  would  the  Search  delay  : 
His  lazy  morrow  will  be  like  to-day. 

Pers.  But  is  one  day  of  Ease  too  much  to  borrow? 

Corn.  Yes,  sure;  for  Yesterday  was  once  To-morrow. 
That  Yesterday  is  gone,  and  nothing  gain'd; 
And  all  thy  fruitless  days  will  thus  be  drain'd  : 
For  thou  hast  more  To-morrows  yet  to  ask, 
And  wilt  be  ever  to  begin  thy  Task ; 
Who,  like  the  hindmost  Chariot  Wheels,  art  curst, 
Still  to  be  near,  but  ne'er  to  reach,  the  first. 

^procrastination.  —Hesiod. 

It  will  not  always  be  Summer. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AXD    OLD.  425 

^kOCraS'tmattcm.  —  Skakspeare. 

That  we  would  do, 
We  should  do  when  we  would ;  for  this  would  changes, 
And  hath  abatements  and  Delays  as  many, 
As  there  are  Tongues,  are  hands,  are  accidents; 
And  then  this  should  is  like  a  spendthrift  Sigh, 
That  hurts  by  easing. 

13fOCCaStmattOn Horace. 

YV"HATEVER  things  injure  your  Eye,  you  are  anxious  to  re- 
move :  but  things  which  affect  your  Mind  you  defer 

^rOtltgteS*  —Shdkspeare. 
When  Beggars  die,  there  are  no  Comets  seen. 

^rofligacg.—  Coiton. 

TTE  that  has  never  suffered  extreme  Adversity,  knows  not  the 
full  extent  of  his  own  Depravation;  and  he  that  has  never  en- 
joyed the  summit  of  Prosperity,  is  equally  ignorant  how  far  the 
Iniquity  of  others  can  go.  For  our  Adversity  will  excite  tempta- 
tions in  ourselves,  our  Prosperity  in  others.  Sir  Robert  Walpole 
observed,  it  was  fortunate  that  few  men  could  be  Prime  Ministers, 
because  it  was  fortunate  that  few  men  could  know  the  abandoned 
Profligacy  of  the  Human  Mind. 

prognostication.  —  Skakspeare. 
T\THEN  Clouds  are  seen,  wise  men  put  on  their  cloaks ; 

When  great  leaves  fall,  then  Winter  is  at  hand ; 
When  the  Sun  sets,  who  doth  not  look  for  Night  ■ 
Untimely  Storms  make  men  expect  a  Dearth. 

^Progress.  —  Coiton. 

'THE  wisest  Man  may  be  wiser  to-day  than  he  was  yesterday,  and 
to-morrow   than  he  is    to-day.     Total   freedom  from    Change 
would  imply  total  freedom  from  Error;  but  this  is  the  Prerogative 
of  Omniscience  alone. 

progress.  —  Coiton. 

AYTHO  for  the  most  part  are  they,  that  would  have  all  Mankind 
look  backward  instead  of  forward,  and  regulate  their  Conduct 
by  things  that  have  been  done?  those  who  are  the  most  ignorant 
as  to  all  things  that  are  doing.  Lord  Bacon  said,  time  is  the 
greatest  of  Innovators ;  he  might  also  have  said  the  greatest  of  Im- 
provers ;  and  I  like  Madame  de  Stael's  observation  on  this  subject, 
quite  as  well  as  Lord  Bacon's:  it  is  this,  "that  Past  which  is  so 
presumptuously  brought  forward  as  a  precedent  for  the  Present, 
was  itself  founded  on  an  alteration  of  some  Past  that  went  before  it  " 


ILL  :    S  -  UTB; 

|ta>ftt£&  _ 

-    B       no  the  moral  and  intell  rid.     One 

is  J  _     ss,  the  other   the   :       ss 

that    Progress.  Id   be 

nothii  _  Has!     nd  durable  on  and  the  wl 

If  the  latter  had 
•  en  if  it  obtaii 

Hi    '    st    _  -    Ft! 
always  those  iu  which  principles  are  the 

balanced.     In  :ilightened   man  ought  to  adopt 

both  principles  into  his  i  with  one 

hand  develop  what  he  can,  v  in  and  uphold  what 

h:  .    ;  .'■ 

\}\::.\  :■':■:.  - 
IJX   the    lisposition  sfnpei  adorn,  mouldin_ 

the  g  us  incorporation  of  the  Human  Race,  the 

whole,  at  one  tim  e  middle-*g  _  :  but, 

in  a         lition  of  unchangea  s  on  through  the 

]  tenour  of  pc  itaon,  and  Progres- 

\VE  Might  -   to  encourage  Innovati 

cases  of  doubtful  Improve ■  I  system  mus: 

hare  two  advantage  -  liahed  and  it  is  un- 

^3;:  —  Fuller. 

HOU  oughtest  to  be .  nic.  to  S         -     ::>n,  in  keepiu. 

and  therefore  thou  shouldst  be  equally  eautioas  n 
making  th 

T-T  :  5:  slow  in  making  a  Promise  is  the  most  faithful  in 

the  i    :::rmance  of 

Paraqitttitiit.—  wirt. 

SEIZE  ed  euri:?  mj  subject,  to  solve 

:ur  dout:  pass,  the  desire  n&aj  :urn, 

and  you  may  remain  in  ignorance. 

}3 : 1 1  —  Skakspeare, 

I'HKKH  is  a  His  :a  all  mens  1: 

F  _         _  -       >    :  :  -  -    1 

vhich  observed,  a  man  may  prop* 
h  a  near  aim,  of  the  main  Chance  of  th     _- 
Afl  yet  not  come  I  ich  in  th 

weak  beginnings,  lie  intreasured. 


THC 

1  : 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  42/ 

VrOSpentg.  —  Shakspeare. 
Prosperity  is  the  very  bond  of  Love ; 
Whose  fresh  complexion  and  whose  Heart  together 
Affliction  alters. 

^IrOSperitg.  — Zimmerman. 
'PAKE  care  to  be  an  economist  in  Prosperity  :  there  is  no  fear  of 
your  being  one  in  Adversity. 

13t:obttJtnCe.  —  Shakspeare. 
THAT  high  All-seer  which  I  dallied  with, 

Hath  turn'd  my  feigned  Prayer  on  my  head, 
And  given  in  earnest  what  I  begg'd  in  jest. 
Thus  doth  He  force  the  Swords  of  wicked  men 
To  turn  their  own  points  on  their  masters'  bosoms. 

^robttience.—  Hannah  More. 
VES,  Thou  art  ever  present,  Power  Supreme  ! 

Not  circumscribed  by  Time,  nor  fixt  to  Space, 
Confined  to  altars,  nor  to  temples  bound. 
In  Wealth,  in  Want,  in  Freedom  or  in  Chains, 
In  Dungeons  or  on  Thrones,  the  faithful  find  thee  ! 

^COuttienCe.  —  Thomson. 
THIS  is  thy  work,  Almighty  Providence  ! 

Whose  Power,  beyond  the  stretch  of  human  thought, 
Revolves  the  orbs  of  Empire;  bids  them  sink 
Deep  in  the  dead'ning  Night  of  thy  displeasure, 
Or  rise  majestic  o'er  a  wondering  world. 

^Jl'ObttJCnCe.  —  Shakspeare. 
OUR  Indiscretion  sometimes  serves  us  well ; 

When  our  deep  plots  do  pall :  and  that  should  teach  us, 
There's  a  Divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough-hew  them  how  we  will. 

liJtObl&enCe.  —  Racine. 
PJE  who  ruleth  the  raging  of  the  Sea,  knows  also  how  to  check 
the  designs  of  the  Ungodly. — I  submit  myself  with  reverence 
to  his  Holy  Will.     0  Abner,  I  fear  my  God,  and  I  fear  none  but 
him. 

^robtutnce.  —  Cowper. 

rj.0,  mark  the  matchless  working  of  the  Power 

That  shuts  within  the  seed  the  future  Flower; 
Bids  these  in  elegance  of  form  excel, 
In  colour  these,  and  those  delight  the  smell ; 
Sends  Nature  forth,  the  Daughter  of  the  skie3, 
To  dance  on  Earth,  and  charm  all  human  Eyes 
2M 


428  ILLU  STRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

^CObttience.  —  Spenser. 
AND  is  there  care  in  Heaven  ?  and  is  there  love 

In  heavenly  Spirits  to  the  creatures  base, 
That  may  compassion  of  their  evills  move  ? 

There  is ;  else  much  more  wretched  were  the  case 

Of  men  than  beasts.    But  oh !  th'  exceeding  Grace 
Of  highest  God  that  loves  his  creatures  so, 

And  all  his  works  with  Mercy  doth  embrace, 
That  blessed  angels  he  sends  to  and  fro 
To  serve  to  wicked  man,  to  serve  his  wicked  foe  ! 

How  oft  do  they  their  silver  bowres  leave 
To  come  to  succour  us  that  succour  want  ? 

How  oft  do  they  with  golden  pinions  cleave 
The  flitting  skyes,  like  flying  Pursuivant, 
Against  fowle  feendes  to  ayd  us  militant  ? 

They  for  us  fight,  they  watch  and  dewly  ward, 
And  their  bright  Squadrons  round  about  us  plant; 

And  all  for  Love,  and  nothing  for  reward : 

Oh  why  should  heavenly  God  to  men  have  such  regard ! 

^rutJettCe,  —  Shakspeare. 
'W'HO  buys  a  minute's  mirth,  to  wail  a  week? 

Or  sells  Eternity  to  get  a  toy  ? 
For  one  sweet  grape,  who  will  the  Vine  destroy? 
Or  what  fond  beggar,  but  to  touch  the  Crown, 
Would  with  the  Sceptre  straight  be  strucken  down  ? 

HJritljettc*.  —  coitm. 

ly/TEN  are  born  with  two  Eyes,  but  with  one  Tongue,  in  order 
that  they  should  see  twice  as  much  as  they  say. 

^ntftence.—  Coiton. 

T'HOSE  characters,  who,  like  Ventidius,  spring  from  the  very 
dregs  of  society,  and  going  through  every  gradation  of  Life, 
continue,  like  him,  to  rise  with  every  change,  and  who  never  quit 
a  single  step  in  the  ladder,  except  it  be  to  gain  a  higher  one,  these 
men  are  superior  to  Fortune,  and  know  how  to  enjoy  her  Caresses 
without  being  the  slaves  of  her  Caprice. 

^PtUtienCe.  —  Shakspeare. 
;TiS  better  using  France,  than  trusting. 
Let  us  be  back'd  with  God,  and  with  the  Seas, 
Which  he  hath  given  for  Fence  impregnable, 
And  with  their  helps  alone  defend  ourselves : 
In  them,  and  in  ourselves,  our  Safety  lies. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD.  429 

^rutinim—  Juvenal. 

^JO   other  Protection   is   wanting,   provided   you  are   under   the 
guidance  of  Prudence. 

^untsfjmcnt.  —  Wilkes. 

The  very  worst  use  to  which  you  can  put  a  Man  is  to  hang  him. 

^pUmStjttUttt  —  From  the  Latin. 
'THE  slightest  corporal  Punishment  falls  more  heavily  than  the 
most  weighty  pecuniary  Penalty. 

WutitmiZm.  — Bancroft. 

C1  RIVALRY  delighted  in  outward  show,  favoured  pleasure,  multi- 
plied amusement,  and  degraded  the  human  race  by  an  exclusive 
respect  for  the  privileged  classes ;  Puritanism  bridled  the  passions, 
commended  the  virtues  of  self-denial,  and  rescued  the  name  of  man 
from  dishonour.  The  former  valued  courtesy ;  the  latter  justice. 
The  former  adorned  society  by  graceful  refinements ;  the  latter 
founded  national  grandeur  on  universal  education.  The  institutions 
of  chivalry  were  subverted  by  the  gradually  increasing  weight,  and 
knowledge,  and  opulence  of  the  industrious  classes.  The  Puritans, 
rallying  upon  those  classes,  planted  in  their  hearts  the  undying 
principles  of  democratic  liberty. 

^Jttr  tt  J).  —  Shakspeare. 

Her  smoothness, 
Her  very  Silence,  and  her  Patience, 
Speak  to  the  people,  and  they  pity  her. 

^Urit}).  —  Buckingham. 
Make  my  breast 
Transparent  as  pure  Crystal,  that  the  world, 
Jealous  of  me,  may  see  the  foulest  thought, 
My  Heart  does  hold. 

$ttritg.  —  Shakspeare. 

A  maiden  never  bold  ; 
Of  spirit  so  still  and  quiet,  that  her  motion 
Blush'd  at  herself. 

$Uttt|).  —  Shakspeare. 
There's  nothing  ill  can  dwell  in  such  a  Temple 
If  the  111  spirit  have  so  fair  a  house, 
G-ood  things  will  strive  to  dwell  with't. 

SPutttg.  —  Hare. 

Purity  is  the  feminine,  Truth  the  masculine,  of  Honour 


*30         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

^pUritp.  —  Hare. 
12Y  the  ancients,  Courage  was  regarded  as  practically  the  main 
part  of  Virtue  :  by  us,  though  I  hope  we  are  not  less  brave, 
Purity  is  so  regarded  now.  The  former  is  evidently  the  animal 
excellence,  a  thing  not  to  be  left  out  when  we  are  balancing  the 
one  against  the  other.  Still  the  following  considerations  weigh 
more  with  me.  Courage,  when  not  an  instinct,  is  the  creation  of 
society,  depending  for  occasions  of  Action  (which  is  essential  to  it) 
on  outward  circumstances,  and  deriving  much  both  of  its  character 
and  its  motives  from  popular  Opinion  and  Esteem.  But  Purity  is 
inward,  secret,  self-sufficing,  harmless,  and,  to  crown  all,  thoroughly 
and  intimately  personal.  It  is  indeed  a  Nature,  rather  than  a 
Virtue ;  and,  like  other  natures,  when  most  perfect,  is  least  con- 
scious of  itself  and  its  perfection.  In  a  word,  Courage,  however 
kindled,  is  fanned  by  the  breath  of  man  :  Purity  lives  and  derives 
its  life  solely  from  the  Spirit  of  God. 

^urSUttS.  —  Terence. 
T  TAKE  it  to  be  a  principal  rule  of  Life,  not  to  be  too  much 
addicted  to  any  one  thing 

(^tiarreiS.  —  Tacitus. 
'THE  Hatred  of  those  who  are  the  most  nearly  connected,  is  the 
most  inveterate. 

(^UarrelS.  —  Shakspeare. 
Accursed  and  unquiet  wrangling  days  ! 
How  many  of  you  have  mine  Eyes  beheld. 

Cartels.  —  coiton. 

fF  you  cannot  avoid  a  quarrel  with  a  Blackguard,  let  your  Lawyer 
manage  it,  rather  thau  yourself.     No  man  sweeps  his  own  chim- 
ney, but  employs  a  chimney-sweeper,  who  has  no  objection  to  dirty 
work,  because  it  is  his  trade. 

(QuarrelS.  —  Shakspeare. 
Contention,  like  a  Horse, 
Full  of  high  feeding,  madly  hath  broke  loose, 
And  bears  down  all  before  him. 

(QuarreiS.  —  Shakspeare. 

Beware 
Of  entrance  to  a  Quarrel :  but,  being  in, 
Bear  it  that  the  Opposer  may  beware  of  thee. 

l&attlt.  — Juvenal. 
"PVERY  Error  of  the  mind  is  the  more  conspicuous,  and  culpable, 
in  proportion  to  the  Rank  of  the  person  who  commits  it. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  431 

Itattfe.  —  Goldsmith. 

QUALITY  and  Title  have  such  allurements,  that  hundreds  are 
ready  to  give  up  all  their  own  importance,  to  cringe,  to  flatter, 
to  look  little,  and  to  pall  every  pleasure  in  constraint,  merely  to 
be  among  the  Great,  though  without  the  least  hopes  of  improving 
their  Understanding  or  sharing  their  Generosity  :  they  might  be 
happy  among  their  equals,  but  those  are  despised  for  company 
where  they  are  despised  in  turn. 

l&anfcs  an*  Begrees.  —  s/mkspeare. 

TyHEN  that  the  General  is  not  like  the  hive, 

To  whom  the  foragers  shall  all  repair, 
"What  Honey  is  expected  ?     Degree  being  vizarded 
Th'  unworthiest  shows  as  fairly  in  the  mask. 
The  Heavens  themselves,  the  Planets,  and  this  Centre 
Observe  Degree,  Priority,  and  Place, 
Insisture,  Course,  Proportion,  Season,  Form, 
Office  and  Custom,  in  all  line  of  Order : 
And  therefore  is  the  glorious  planet  Sol 
In  noble  eminence  enthroned  and  sphered 
Amidst  the  rest,  whose  med'cinable  eye 
Corrects  the  ill  aspects  of  Plauets  evil, 
And  posts  like  the  commandment  of  a  King, 
Sans  check,  to  good  and  bad.     But  when  the  Planets 
In  evil  mixture  to  Disorder  wander, 
What  plagues,  and  what  portents,  what  mutiny  ? 
What  raging  of  the  Sea  ?  shaking  of  Earth  ? 
Commotion  in  the  Winds  ?  frights,  changes,  horrors, 
Divert  and  crack,  rend,  and  deracinate 
The  unity  and  married  calm  of  States 
Quite  from  their  fixure  ?  Oh,  when  Degree  is  shaken, 
(Which  is  the  ladder  to  all  high  designs) 
The  enterprise  is  sick.     How  could  communities, 
Degrees  in  schools,  and  Brotherhoods  in  cities, 
Peaceful  commerce  from  dividabl»  shores, 
The  primogeniture,  and  due  of  birth, 
Prerogative  of  age,  crowns,  sceptres,  laurels, 
(But  by  Degree)  stand  in  authentic  place? 
Take  but  Degree  away,  untune  that  string, 
And  hark  what  Discord  follows ;  each  thing  meets 
In  mere  oppugnancy.     The  bounded  waters 
Would  lift  their  bosoms  higher  than  the  shores, 
And  make  a  sop  of  all  this  solid  Globe  : 
Streugth  would  be  lord  of  Imbecility, 
And  the  rude  son  would  strike  his  father  dead : 

2m2 


432         I I L  USTRATIONS    OF    TR  U T II; 

Force  would  be  Right  j  or  rather,  Right  and  Wrong 

(Between  whose  endless  jar  Justice  resides) 

"Would  lose  their  names,  and  so  would  Justice  too. 

Then  every  thing  includes  itself  in  power, 

Power  into  Will,  Will  into  Appetite; 

And  Appetite,  an  universal  Wolf, 

So  doubly  seconded  with  Will  and  Power, 

Must  make  perforce  an  universal  prey, 

And,  last,  eat  up  himself. — 

This  chaos,  when  Degree  is  suffocate, 

Follows  the  choking. 

And  this  neglection  of  Degree  it  is, 

That  by  a  pace  goes  backward,  with  a  purpose 

It  hath  to  climb.     The  General's  disdain'd 

By  him  one  step  below;  he,  by  the  next; 

That  next,  by  him  beneath ;  so  every  step, 

Exampled  by  the  first  pace,  that  is  sick 

Of  his  superior,  grows  to  an  envious  fever 

Of  pale  and  bloodless  Emulation. 

HattCmaitt£.  —  Greville. 
TV/TAN  is  said  to  be  a  Rational  Creature ;  but  should  it  not  rather 
be  said,  that  Man  is  a  Creature  capable  of  being  Rational,  as 
we  say  a  Parrot  is  a  Creature  capable  of  Speech  ? 

<L\aSi)1t£0S.  —  Shakspeare. 
HTHAT'S  a  valiant  Flea,  that  dare  eat  his  breakfast  on  the  lip  of 
a  Lion. 

3ft  easing.— PUny. 

He  picked  something  out  of  every  thing  he  read. 

3&tabinQ.  —  Johnson. 
T\rHAT  we  read  with  inclination  makes  a  stronger  impression. 
If  we  read  without  inclination,  half  the  mind  is  employed  in 
fixing  the  Attention,  so  there  is  but  half  to  be  employed  on  what 
we  read.  If  a  man  begins  to  read,  in  the  middle  of  a  Book,  and 
feels  an  inclination  to  go  on,  let  him  not  quit  it  to  go  to  the  begin- 
ning.    He  may  perhaps  not  feel  again  the  inclination. 

I&eafcmg.—  Bacon. 
"DEAD  not  to  contradict  and  confute,  nor  to  believe  and  take  for 
granted,  nor  to  find  Talk   and  Discourse,  but  to   weigh  and 
consider. 

lUaSOn.  —  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 
"REASON  cannot  show  itself  more  reasonable,  than  to  leave  rea- 
soning on  things  above  Reason. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  433 

<KeaSOtt.  —  Burke. 
TyE  are  afraid  to  put  men  to  live  and  trade  each  on  his  own 
private  stock  of  Reason  •  because  we  suspect  that  this  stock 
in  each  man  is  small,  and  that  the  individuals  would  do  better  to 
avail  themselves  of  the  general  Bank  and  Capital  of  Nations  and  of 
Ages. 

Reason.  —  Sir  W.  Drummond. 
TTE  that  will  not  Reason  is  a  Bigot,  he  that  cannot  Reason  is  a 
Fool,  and  he  that  dares  not  Reason  is  a  Slave. 

l&eaiSOn.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 


TTE  is  not  a  reasonable  Man  who  by  chance  stumbles  upon  Reason, 
but  he  who  derives  it  from  Kuowledge,  from  Discernment,  and 

from  Taste. 

Reason.  —Anon. 

{~)NE  can  never  repeat  too  often,  that  Reason,  as  it  exists  in  man, 
is  only  our  intellectual  eye,  and  that,  like  the  eye,  to  see,  it 

needs  Light, — to  see  clearly  and  far,  it  needs  the  Light  of  Heaven 

&efteUt01t.  —  Shalcspeare. 
Tl^HAT  rein  can  hold  licentious  Wickedness, 

When  down  the  hill  he  holds  his  fierce  career? 
We  may  as  bootless  spend  our  vain  command, 
Upon  th'  enraged  Soldiers  in  their  spoil, 
Or  send  precepts  to  th'  Leviathan. 

<Ket  Ufcmg.  —  Shakspeare. 
T\rHAT  though  the  mast  be  now  blown  overboard, 

The  cable  broke,  the  holding  Anchor  lost, 
And  half  our  sailors  swallow'd  in  the  flood  ? 
Yet  lives  our  Pilot  still  :  Is't  meet,  that  he 
Should  leave  the  helm,  and,  like  a  fearful  lad, 
With  tearful  eyes  add  water  to  the  Sea, 
And  give  more  strength  to  that  which  hath  too  much, 
Whiles,  in  his  moan,  the  Ship  splits  on  the  rock, 
Which  Industry  and  Courage  might  have  saved  ? 
Ah,  what  a  shame !  ah,  what  a  fault  were  this  ! 

Ifteuiiking.  —  Fuller. 

TN  all  Reprehensions,  observe  to  express  rather  thy  Love  than 
thy  Anger ;  and  strive  rather  to  convince  than  exasperate  :  but 
if  the  Matter  do  require  any  special  Indignation,  let  it  appear  to 
be  the  zeal  of  a  displeased  Friend,  rather  than  the  passion  of  a 
provoked  Enemy. 


434  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

%lttU&titm.—SaviUe. 
~T)IVERSIONS  are  the  most  properly  applied,  to  ease  and  relieve 
those  who  are  oppressed,  by  being  too  much  employed.  Those 
that  are  idle  have  no  need  of  them,  and  yet  they,  above  all  others, 
give  themselves  up  to  them.  To  unbend  our  Thoughts,  when  they 
are  too  much  stretched  by  our  Cares,  is  not  more  natural  than  it 
is  necessary ;  but  to  turn  our  whole  Life  into  a  holyday,  is  not 
only  ridiculous,  but  destroyeth  Pleasure  instead  of  promoting  it. 

Refinement.  —  Greviiie. 

'TRUE  Delicacy,  as  true  Generosity,  is  more  wounded  by  an  of- 
fence from  itself,  if  I  may  be  allowed  the  expression,  than  to 
itself. 

Refinement.  —  La  Bruyere. 
HPHE  most  delicate,  the  most  sensible  of  all  Pleasures,  consists  in 
promoting  the  Pleasures  of  others. 

Refinement.  —  Greviiie. 

rFHERE  seems  to  be  something  satisfactory  resulting  from  every 
defect  in  Human  Nature  !  and  it  is  in  that  satisfaction,  me- 
thinks,  that  all  the  endearing  refinements  of  Society  consist;  there 
are  a  thousand  little  and  undefinable  Delicacies  in  our  conversation, 
our  looks,  and  even  Gestures,  arising  from  these  defects,  which 
mutually  require  to  be  understood  and  returned ;  nay,  there  are 
little  indulgences  due  to  these  Defects,  which  the  well-disposed  and 
well-conceiving  Mind  feels  a  want  to  bestow  as  well  as  to  receive, 
and  will  be  uneasy  and  dissatisfied  till  an  opportunity  offers  to  do 
it ;  and  hence  that  first  of  Concerts,  the  play  and  harmony  of  ac- 
cording Minds ! 

Refinement.  —  Hume. 

TF  refined  sense,  and  exalted  sense,  be  not  so  useful  as  Common 
Sense,  their  rarity,  their  novelty,  and  the  nobleness  of  their 
objects,  make  some  compensation,  and  render  them  the  admiration 
of  Mankind. 

Reform*  —  Lavater. 
TTE  who  reforms  himself,  has  done  more  toward  reforming  the 
Public,  than  a  crowd  of  noisy,  impotent  Patriots. 

Reforms.  —  Coiton. 

/^HARLES  FOX  said  that  Restorations  were  the  most  bloody 
of  all  Revolutions;  and,  he  might  have  added,  that  Reforma- 
tions are  the  best  mode  of  preventing  the  necessity  of  either. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  435 


^.egtet.  —  Shakspeare. 
V\7TTAT  !  old  Acquaintance  !  could  not  all  this  flesh 

Keep  in  a  little  life  ?     Poor  Jack,  farewell ! 
I  could  have  better  spared  a  better  man. 

Ifteltgt'on,  —  Burke. 

\YTE  know,  and  what  is  better,  we  feel  inwardly,  that  Religion  is 
the  basis  of  civil  Society,  and  the  source  of  all  good  and  of 
all  comfort.  In  England  we  are  so  convinced  of  this,  that  there  is 
no  rust  of  Superstition  with  which  the  accumulated  absurdity  of 
the  human  mind  might  have  crusted  it  over  in  the  course  of  ages, 
that  ninety-nine  in  a  hundred  of  the  People  of  England  would  not 
prefer  to  Impiety. 

HeligtOtt.  —  Hare. 
"^ORDSWORTH  has  told  us  the  law  of  his  own  mind,  the 
fulfilment  of  which  has  enabled  him  to  reveal  a  new  world  of 
poetry  :  "  Wisdom  is  oft-times  nearer  when  we  stoop  than  when 
we  soar."  That  it  is  so  likewise  in  Religion,  wc  are  assured  by 
those  most  comfortable  words,  "  Except  ye  become  as  little  chil- 
dren, ye  shall  not  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven." 

1ft  el  t  gum.  —  Coiton. 

■  ^HARLES  the  Fourth,  after  his  abdication,  amused  himself  in  his 
retirement  at  St.  Juste,  by  attempting  to  make  a  number  of 
watches  go  exactly  together.  Being  constantly  foiled  in  this  at- 
tempt, he  exclaimed,  "What  a  fool  have  I  been  to  neglect  ray  own 
concerns,  and  to  waste  ray  whole  Life  in  a  vain  attempt  to  make  all 
men  think  alike  on  matters  of  Religion,  when  I  cannot  even  make 
a  few  Watches  keep  time  together." 

l&eltgtOTt.  —  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
TTNLESS  Christianity  be  viewed  and  felt  in  a  high  and  compre- 
hensive way,  how  large  a  portion  of  our  intellectual  and  moral 
Nature  does  it  leave  without  Object  and  Action  ! 

Heltgtcm.—  South. 

'TRUTH,  like  a  stately  dame,  will  uot  be  seen,  nor  show  herself 
at  the  first  visit,  nor  match  with  the  Understanding  upon  an 
ordinary  Courtship  or  address.  Long  and  tedious  attendances  must 
be  given,  and  the  hardest  fatigues  endured  and  digested  :  nor  did 
ever  the  most  pregnant  Wit  in  the  world  bring  forth  any  thing 
great,  lasting,  and  considerable,  without  some  Pain  and  Travail, 
some  pangs  and  Throes  before  the  delivery.  Now  all  this  that  I 
have  said  is  to  show  the  force  of  diligence  in  the  investigation  of 
Truth,  and  particularly  of  the  noblest  of  all  Truths,  which  is  that 
of  Religion. 


436  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

$veltgtOtt.—  Fuller. 
T>LACE  not  thy  amendment  only  in  increasing  thy  Devotion,  but 
in  bettering  thy  Life.     This  is  the  damning  Hypocrisy  of  this 
age;  that  it  slights  all  good  Morality,  and  spends  its  zeal  in  mat- 
ters of  Ceremony,  and  a  form  of  Godliness  without  the  Power  of  it. 

Religion.  —  Coiton. 

"DELIGION,  like  its  votaries,  while  it  exists  on  Earth,  must  have 
a  body  as  well  as  a  soul.     A  Religion  purely  spiritual  might 
suit  a  being  as  pure,  but  Men  are  compound  animals;  and  the  body 
too  often  lords  it  over  the  Mind. 

IfteltgtOn.  —  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
VOU  may  depend  upon  it,  Religion  is,  in  its  essence,  the  most 
gentlemanly  thing  in  the  World.  It  will  alone  gentilize,  if 
unmixed  with  cant;  and  I  know  nothing  else  that  will,  alone.  Cer- 
tainly not  the  Army,  which  is  thought  to  be  the  grand  embellisher 
of  Manners. 

S&tllQifm.  —  Lavater. 
HHHE  more  Honesty  a  man  has,  the  less  he  affects  the  air  of  a 
Saint. 

3&elt0tCllt.—  Hare. 
"\TANY  people  make  their  own  God ;  and  he  is  much  what  the 
French  may  mean,  when  they  talk  of  Le  bon  Dieu, — very  in- 
dulgent, rather  weak,  near  at  hand  when  we  want  any  thing,  bat 
far  away  out  of  sight  when  we  have  a  mind  to  do  wrong.  Such  a 
God  is  as  much  an  Idol  as  if  he  were  an  Image  of  stone. 

ifteltgton.  —  Coiton. 

PHILOSOPHY  is  a  bully  that  talks  very  loud,  when  the  danger 
is  at  a  distance ;  but  the  moment  she  is  hard  pressed  by  the 
Enemy,  she  is  not  to  be  found  at  her  post,  but  leaves  the  brunt  of 
the  Battle  to  be  borne  by  her  humbler  but  steadier  comrade,  Re- 
ligion. 

IfteltgtOn.  —  Anon. 
P  ELIGION  is  the  whole  Bible  :  Sects  pick  out  a  part  of  it.     But 
what  whole  ?     The  Living  whole,  to  be  sure — not  the  Dead 
whole  :  the  Spirit  !  not  the  letter. 

IfteltgtCtt.  —  Selden. 
'THEY  that  cry  down  Moral  Honesty,  cry  down  that  which  is  a 
great  part  of  my  Religion — my  Duty  toward  God,  and  my  Duty 
toward  Man.  What  care  I  to  see  a  man  run  after  a  sermon,  if  he 
cozens  and  cheats  as  soon  as  he  comes  home.  On  the  other  side, 
Morality  must  not  be  without  Religion ;  for  if  so,  it  may  change, 
as  I  see  convenience.     Religion  must  govern  it. 


OR,    THIXGS  NEW  AND   OLD.  437 

iSUltgtOn.—  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
TF  a  man  is  not  rising  upward  to  be  an  Angel,  depend  upon  it,  he. 
is  sinking  downward  to  be  a  Devil.     He   cannot  stop  at  the 
Beast.     The  most  savage  of  men  are  not  Beasts  j  they  are  worse, 
a  great  deal  worse. 

1£eltQt0n.—  South. 
TTE  that  is  a  Good  Man,  is  three-quarters  of  his  way  toward  the 
being  a  G-ood  Christian,  wheresoever  he  lives,  or  whatsoever 
he  is  called. 

^eltgtOTt.  —  &  T.  Coleridge. 
TF  you  bring  up  your  children  in  a  way  which  puts  them  out  of 
sympathy  with  the  Religious  feelings  of  the  Nation   in  which 
they  live,  the  chances  are,  that  they  will  ultimately  turn  out  Ruffians 
or  Fanatics,  and  one  as  likely  as  the  other. 

l£eltCJtMt.—  Pascal. 
T  ET  it  not  be  imagined  that  the  Life  of  a  good  Christian  must 
necessarily  be  a  Life  of  Melancholy  and  Gloominess  ;  for  he 
only  resigns  some  Pleasures,  to  enjoy  others  infinitely  greater. 

WitUgiQn.  —  Melmoth. 

1"  CANNOT  but  take  notice  of  the  wonderful  love  of  God  to  man- 
kind, who,  in  order  to  encourage  obedience  to  his  Laws,  has 
annexed  a  present,  as  well  as  future  reward  to  a  Good  Life ;  and 
has  so  interwoven  our  Duty  and  Happiness  together,  that  while  we 
are  discharging  our  obligations  to  the  one,  we  are,  at  the  same  time, 
making  the  best  provision  for  the  other. 

Religion.—  Anon. 
1"  IKE  every  other  Power,  Religion  too,  in  widening  her  empire, 
may  impair  her  sway.  It  has  been  seen  too  often,  both  in 
Philosophy  and  elsewhere,  that,  when  people  have  fancied  that  the 
world  was  becoming  Christian,  Christianity  was  in  fact  becoming 
worldly. 

ifteltgtOlt.—  Anon. 
T\THEN  a  man  is  told  that  the  whole  of  Religion  and  Morality 
is  summed  up  in  the  two  Commandments,  to  love  God,  and  to 
love  our  neighbour,  he  is  ready  to  cry,  like  Charoba  in  Gebir,  at 
the  first  sight  of  the  Sea,  "  Is  this  the  mighty  Ocean  ?  Is  this  all  ?" 
Yes !  all  :  but  how  small  a  part  of  it  do  your  eyes  survey  !  only 
trust  yourself  to  it ;  launch  out  upon  it ;  sail  abroad  over  it :  you 
will  find  it  has  no  end  :  it  will  carry  you  round  the  World. 

Helfgtmt*  —  Fuller. 

ATEASURE  not  Men  by  Sundays,  without  regarding  wh^t  they 
do  all  the  Week  after. 


WJ 


438  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

lUltgtOTt.  —  Colton. 
A  LL  who  have  been  great  and  good  without  Christianity,  would 
have  been  much  greater  and  better  with  it.  If  there  be,  anions 
the  Sons  of  men,  a  single  exception  to  this  maxim,  the  divine 
Socrates  may  be  allowed  to  put  in  the  strongest  claim.  It  was  his 
high  Ambition  to  deserve,  by  Deeds,  not  by  creeds,  an  unrevealed 
Heaven,  and  by  works,  not  by  faith,  to  enter  an  unpromised  land. 

l^dtgtOn,  —  Anon. 
TyHO  are  the  most  godlike  of  men  ?     The  question  might  be  a 
puzzling  one,  unless  our  language  answered  it  for  us :   the 

0-odliest. 

SfteltfltOtt.—  Colton. 
'THAT  country  where  the  Clergy  have  the  most  influence,  and  use 
it  with  the  most  Moderation,  is  England. 

lUltgtOtt.—  Pope. 
For  Virtue's  self  may  too  much  zeal  be  had; 
The  worst  of  madmen  is  a  Saint  run  mad. 

lUitgton.  —  Colton. 

"HEN  the  Methodists  first  decide  on  the  doctrine  they  approve, 
and  then  choose  such  Pastors  as  they  know  beforehand  will 
preach  no  other,  they  act  as  wisely  as  a  Patient,  who  should  send 
for  a  Physician,  and  then  prescribe  to  him  what  Medicines  he  ought 
to  advise. 

l&eltgtcm.  _  Colton. 

THERE  can  be  no  Christianity  where  there  is  no  Charity,  but 
the  censorious  cultivate  the  forms  of  Religion,  that  they  may 
more  freely  indulge  in  the  only  pleasure  of  their  lives — that  of 
calumniating  those  who  to  their  other  feelings  add  not  the  Sin  of 
Hypocrisy. 

Religion,  —  Colton. 

"PHILOSOPHY  is  a  goddess,  whose  head  indeed  is  in  Heaven, 
but  whose  feet  are  upon  Earth ;  she  attempts  more  than  she 
accomplishes,  and  promises  more  than  she  performs ;  she  can  teach 
us  to  hear  of  the  calamities  of  others  with  Magnanimity;  but  it  is 
Religion  only  that  can  teach  us  to  bear  our  own  with  Resignation. 

Religion.  —Addison. 
JTYPOCRISY  itself  does  great  Honour,  or  rather  Justice,  to  Re- 
ligion, and  tacitly  acknowledges  it  to  be  an  ornament  to 
human  nature.  The  Hypocrite  would  not  be  at  so  much  pains  to 
put  on  the  appearance  of  Virtue,  if  he  did  not  know  it  was  the 
most  proper  and  effectual  means  to  gain  the  Love  and  Esteem  of 
aiankind. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  433 

lUltgioit*  —  Cotton. 

"JV/TEN  will  wrangle  for  Religion;  write  for  it;  fight  for  it;  die  for 
it;  any  thing  but — live  for  it. 

Ifteltgtcm.  —  Pope. 

'THERE  is  nothing  wanting  to  make  all  rational  and  disinterested 
people  in  the  world  of  one  Religion,  but  that  they  should  talk 
together  every  day. 

lUttgUm.—  Cotton. 

A  S  all  who  frequent  any  place  of  Public  Worship,  however  they 

may  differ  from  the  doctrines  there  delivered,  are  expected  to 

comport  themselves  with  Seriousness  and  Gravity,  so  in  religious 

Controversies,  Ridicule  ought  never  to  be  resorted  to  on  either  side. 

KtliQWU.  —  Moore. 
'THOUGH  thus,  my  Friend,  so  long  employ'd, 

And  so  much  midnight  Oil  destroy'd, 
I  must  confess,  my  Searches  past, 
I  only  learn'd  to  doubt  at  last. 

lUltgtOtt.—  Sprat 

'THE  Head  truly  enlightened  will  presently  have  a  wonderful  in- 
fluence in  purifying  the  Heart ;  and  the  Heart  really  affected 
with  Goodness,  will  much  conduce  to  the  directing  of  the  Head. 

Religion.—  CoU&n. 

TT  has  been  said  that  men  carry  on  a  kind  of  coasting  trade  with  Re- 
ligion. In  the  voyage  of  life,  they  profess  to  be  in  search  of 
Heaven,  but  take  care  not  to  venture  so  far  in  their  approximations 
to  it,  as  entirely  to  lose  sight  of  the  Earth ;  and  should  their  frail 
vessel  be  in  danger  of  Shipwreck,  they  will  gladly  throw  their 
darling  Vices  overboard,  as  other.  Mariners  their  treasures,  only  to 
fish  them  up  again  when  the  Storm  is  over. 

KcltgtfJTL  —  Baxter. 
TT  is  one  thing  to  take  God  and  Heaven  for  your  portion,  as  be- 
lievers do,  and  another  thing  to  be  desirous  of  it,  as  a  reserve 
when  you  can  keep  the  World  no  longer.  It  is  one  thing  to  submit 
to  Heaven,  as  a  lesser  evil  than  Hell :  and  another  thing  to  desire  it 
as  a  greater  good  than  Earth.  It  is  one  thing  to  lay  up  treasures 
and  hopes  in  Heaven,  and  seek  it  first ;  and  another  thing  to  be 
contented  with  it  in  our  necessity,  and  to  seek  the  world  before  it, 
and  give  God  that  the  flesh  can  spare.  Thus  difFereth  the  Religion 
of  serious  Christians,  and  of  carnal,  worldly  Hypocrites. 

i^eltgton.  —  Pope. 

AN  Atheist  is  but  a  mad,  ridiculous  derider  of  Piety  ;  but  a  Hy- 
pocrite makes  a  sober  jest  of  God  and  Religion ;  he  find?  it 
easier  to  be  upon  his  knee  than  to  rise  to  a  good  action. 

2N 


440         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Religion.—  Baxter. 
JF  it  were  only  the  exercise  of  the  body,  the  moving  of  the  Lips, 
the  bending  of  the  Knee,  men  would  as  commonly  step  to 
Heaven  as  they  go  to  visit  a  friend  :  but  to  separate  our  thoughts 
and  affections  from  the  world,  to  draw  forth  all  our  Graces,  and 
increase  each  in  its  proper  object,  and  to  hold  them  to  it  till  the 
Work  prospers  in  our  hands, — this,  this  is  the  difficulty. 

Religion.  —  Shakspeare. 
J^OVE  thyself  last;  cherish  those  Hearts  that  hate  thee; 

Corruption  wins  not  more  than  Honesty. 
Still  in  thy  right  hand  carry  gentle  Peace, 
To  silence  envious  tongues.     Be  just,  and  fear  not. 
Let  all  the  ends  thou  aim'st  at  be 
Thy  God's,  and  Truth's;  then,  when  thou  fall'st, 
Thou  fall'st  a  blessed  Martyr. 

Heltsum.— South. 

THE  Pleasure  of  the  Religious  Man  is  an  easy  and  portable  Plea- 
sure, such  an  one  as  he  carries  about  in  his  Bosom,  without 
alarming  either  the  Eye  or  the  Envy  of  the  world. — A  man  put- 
ting all  his  Pleasures  into  this  one,  is  like  a  traveller's  putting  all 
his  goods  into  one  Jewel ;  the  value  is  the  same,  and  the  conve- 
nience greater. 

IfteltStOn.—  Anon. 
'THE  Religious  are  often  charged  with  judging  uncharitably  of 
others;  and  perhaps  the  charge  may  at  times  be  deserved. 
With  our  narrow,  partial  views,  it  is  very  difficult  to  feel  the  evil 
of  an  Error  strongly,  and  yet  to  think  kindly  of  him  in  whom  we 
see  it. 

Ifteltgion.—  Coiton. 

THERE  are  three  modes  of  bearing  the  Ills  of  Life ;  by  Indiffer- 
ence, which  is  the  most  common  ;  by  Philosophy,  which  is  the 
most  ostentatious;  and  by  Religion,  which  is  the  most  effectual. 

HeltgtOtt.  —  Shaftesbury. 
TF  we  are  told  a  man  is  religious,  we  still  ask,  what  are  his  Mo- 
rals?    But  if  we  hear  at  first  that  he  has  honest  Morals,  and  is 
a  man  of  natural  Justice  and  Good  Temper,  we  seldom  think  of 
the  other  question,  whether  he  be  religious  and  devout  ? 

KdtgtOlt.—  Hare. 
THE  Imagination  and  the  Feelings  have  each  their  Truths,  aa 
well  as  the  Reason.     The  absorption   of  the   three,  so  as  to 
concentrate  them  in  the  same  point,  is  one  of  the  universalities  re- 
quisite in  a  true  Religion. 


OR,   THIXGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  44] 

£UltCJtOn Young. 

Know, 

Without  Star,  or  Angel,  for  their  Guide, 
Who  worship  God,  shall  find  him.      Humble  Love, 
And  not  proud  Reason,  keeps  the  door  of  Heaven  ; 
Love  finds  admission,  where  proud  Science  fails. 

Religion,—  Dry  den. 
RUT  whither  went  his  Soul,  let  such  relate 
Who  search  the  secrets  of  a  future  state  : 
Divines  can  say  but  what  themselves  believe ; 
Strong  proofs  they  have,  but  not  demonstrative : 
For,  were  all  plain,  then  all  sides  must  agree, 
And  Faith  itself  be  lost  in  certainty. 
To  live  uprightly  then  is  sure  the  best : 
To  save  ourselves,  and  not  to  damn  the  rest. 

l&eltgton.  —  Coiton. 

TN  all   places,   and   in   all    times,  those   Religionists   who    havo 
believed  too  much,  have  been  more  inclined  to  Violence  and 
Persecution,  than  those  who  have  believed  too  little. 

l&eltgt(m.  —  Shakspeare. 
It  is  an  Heretic  that  makes  the  Fire, 
Not  he  which  burns  in't. 

Hrlt'gtOn.  —  From  the  Latin. 
A  man  devoid  of  Religion,  is  like  a  Horse  without  a  bridle. 

Religion.  —  Shakspeare. 
It  is  Religion  that  doth  make  vows  kept. 

lieltgtOlt.  —  Byron. 
My  altars  are  the  Mountains  and  the  Ocean, 
Earth,  Air,  Stars, — all  that  springs  from  the  great  Whole, 
Who  hath  produced,  and  will  receive  the  Soul. 

Ifteltgtcm.— Pope. 

Slave  to  no  sect,  who  takes  no  private  road, 
But  looks  through  Nature  up  to  Nature's  God. 

&tlWOr\.  —  Cowper. 
[  VENERATE  the  man,  whose  Heart  is  warn, 

Whose  hands  are  pure ;  whose  doctrine  and  whose  Life 
Coincident,  exhibit  lucid  proof 
That  he  is  honest  in  the  Sacred  Cause. 


442  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

personal  l^rltgton Webster. 

J)OLITICAL  emiDence  and  professional  fame  fade  away  and  die 
with  all  things  earthly.  Nothing  of  character  is  really  perma- 
nent but  virtue  and  personal  worth.  These  remain.  Whatever 
of  excellence  is  wrought  into  the  soul  itself  belongs  to  both  worlds. 
Eeal  goodness  does  not  attach  itself  merely  to  this  life  j  it  points 
to  another  world,  Political  or  professional  reputation  cannot  last 
forever;  but  a  conscience  void  of  offence  before  God  and  man  is  an 
inheritance  for  eternity.  Religion,  therefore,  is  a  necessary  and 
indispensable  element  in  any  great  human  character.  There  is  no 
living  without  it.  Religion  is  the  tie  that  connects  man  with  his 
Creator,  and  holds  him  to  his  throne.  If  that  tie  be  all  sundered, 
all  broken,  he  floats  away,  a  worthless  atom  in  the  universe;  its 
proper  attractions  all  gone,  its  destiny  thwarted,  and  its  whole 
future  nothing  but  darkness,  desolation,  and  death.  A  man  with 
no  sense  of  religious  duty  is  he  whom  the  Scriptures  describe,  in 
such  terse  but  terrific  language,  as  living  "without  God  in  the 
world."  Such  a  man  is  out  of  his  proper  being,  out  of  the  circle 
of  all  his  duties,  out  of  the  circle  of  all  his  happiness,  and  away,  far, 
far  away,  from  the  purposes  of  his  creation. 

Religion  antf  JHoralt'tp.  —  Washington. 

CXF  all  the  dispositions  and  habits  which  lead  to  political  prospority, 
Religion  and  Morality  are  indispensable  supports.  In  vain 
would  that  man  claim  the  tribute  of  patriotism,  who  should  labour 
to  subvert  these  great  pillars  of  human  happiness,  these  firmest 
props  of  the  duties  of  men  and  citizens.  And  let  us  with  caution 
indulge  the  supposition  that  morality  can  be  maintained  without 
religion.  Whatever  may  be  conceded  to  the  influence  of  refined 
education  on  minds  of  peculiar  structure,  reason  and  experience 
both  forbid  us  to  expect  that  national  morality  can  prevail  in  ex- 
clusion of  religious  principle. 

l&eaSOtt  in  l&eltgtOtt*  —  Archibald  Alexander. 
rrHAT  it  is  the  right  and  the  duty  of  all  men  to  exercise  their 
Reason  in  inquiries  concerning  Religion,  is  a  truth  so  manifest, 
that  it  may  be  presumed  there  are  none  who  will  be  disposed  to 
call  it  in  question.  Without  reason,  there  can  be  no  religion;  for 
in  every  step  we  take  in  examining  the  evidences  of  revelation,  in 
interpreting  its  meaning,  or  in  assenting  to  its  doctrines,  the  exercise 
of  this  faculty  is  indispensable.  When  the  evidences  of  Christianity 
are  exhibited,  an  appeal  is  made  to  the  reason  of  men  for  its  truth ; 
but  all  evidence  and  all  argument  would  be  perfectly  futile,  if 
reason  were  not  permitted  to  judge  of  their  force.  This  noble 
faculty  was  certainly  given  to  man  to  be  a  guide  in  religion  as  welJ 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  441 


as  in  other  things.  He  possesses  no  other  means  by  which  he  can 
form  a  judgment  on  any  subject  or  assent  to  any  truth  ;  and  it 
would  be  no  more  absurd  to  talk  of  seeing  without  eyes,  than  of 
knowing  any  thing  without  reason. 

1&emem&  ranee.  —  Skdkspeare. 

Remember  thee? 
Yea,  from  the  table  of  my  Memory 
I'll  wipe  away  all  trivial  fond  records, 
All  saws  of  Books,  all  forms,  all  pressures  past, 
That  Youth  and  Observation  copied  there ; 
And  thy  commandment  all  alone  shall  live 
Within  the  Book  and  volume  of  my  Brain, 
Unmix' d  with  baser  matter. 

Hememferanee.  —  Shakspeare. 

Dispute  it  like  a  Man. 
I  shall  do  so : 

But  I  must  also  feel  it  as  a  Man. 
I  cannot  but  remember  such  things  were, 
That  were  most  precious  to  me. 

Iftemorse.  _  Scott. 

TTIGrH  minds,  of  native  Pride  and  force, 
Most  deeply  feel  thy  pangs,  Remorse ! 
Fear  for  their  scourge  mean  Villains  have ; 
Thou  art  the  torturer  of  the  Brave. 

WLWpmtmte.— Shakspeare. 
They  say,  best  Men  are  moulded  out  of  faults : 
And,  for  the  most,  become  much  more  the  better 
For  being  a  little  bad. 

ISepentanee.—  Coiton. 

COME  well-meaning  Christians  tremble  for  their  Salvation,  be- 
cause they  have  never  gone  through  that  valley  of  Tears  and 
of  Sorrow,  which  they  have  been  taught  to  consider  as  an  ordeal 
that  must  be  passed  through,  before  they  can  arrive  at  Regenera- 
tion ;  to  satisfy  such  minds,  it  may  be  observed,  that  the  slightest 
sorrow  for  Sin  is  sufficient,  if  it  produce  Amendment,  and  that  the 
greatest  is  insufficient,  if  it  do  not. 

Hepentanee.  —  South. 

"DEPENTANCE  hath  a  purifying  power,  and  every  Tear  is  of  a 
cleansing  Virtue;  but  these  penitential  clouds  must  be  still 
kept  dropping;  one  shower  will  not  suffice;  for  Repentance  is  not 
one  single  action,  but  a  course. 

2x2 


444  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Repentance.—  Rowe. 

TXABITUAL  Evils  change  not  on  a  sudden, 

But  many  days  must  pass,  and  many  Sorrows : 
Conscious  Remorse  and  Anguish  must  be  felt, 
To  curb  Desire,  to  break  the  stubborn  Will, 
And  work  a  second  nature  in  the  Soul, 
Ere  Virtue  can  resume  the  place  she  lost. 

Repentance.  —  Shdkspeare. 
T>EPLY  not  to  me  with  a  Fool-born  jest; 

Presume  not,  that  I  am  the  thing  I  was : 
For  Heaven  doth  know,  so  shall  the  world  perceive, 
That  I  have  turn'd  away  my  former  self; 
So  will  I  those  that  kept  me  Company. 

Repentance.  —  Hare. 

\\TE  look  to  our  last  sickness  for  Repentance,  unmindful  that  it 
is  during  a  Recovery  men  repent,  not  during  a  Sickness. 
For  Sickness,  by  the  time  we  feel  it  to  be  such,  has  its  own  Trials, 
its  own  selfishness :  and  to  bear  the  one,  and  overcome  the  other, 
is  at  such  a  season  occupation  more  than  enough  for  any  who 
have  not  been  trained  to  it  by  previous  Discipline  and  practice. 

Repentance.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
OUR  Repentance  is  not  so  much  Regret  for  the  Evil  we  have  done 
as  Fear  of  its  Consequences  to  us. 

Repentance.  —  Shakspeare. 
Q  WRETCHED  state  !  0  Bosom,  black  as  Death 

0  limed  Soul ;  that  struggling  to  be  free, 
Art  more  engaged  !  Help,  Angels,  make  assay  ! 
Bow,  stubborn  knees  !  and,  Heart,  with  strings  of  steel, 
Be  soft  as  sinews  of  the  new-born  babe. 

ReprOClf.  —  Sliakspeare. 
T'HOU  hast  cast  away  thyself,  being  like  thyself: 

A  Madman  so  long,  now  a  Fool :  What,  think'st 
That  the  bleak  air,  thy  boisterous  Chamberlain, 
Will  put  thy  shirt  on  warm  ?     Will  these  inoss'd  trees, 
That  have  outlived  the  Eagle,  page  thy  heels, 
And  skip,  when  thou  point' st  out?     Will  the  cold  brook, 
Candied  with  Tee,  caudle  thy  morning  taste, 
To  cure  thy  o'ernight's  surfeit?  call  the  creatures, — 
Whose  naked  natures  live  in  all  the  spite 
Of  wreakful  Heaven  ;  whose  bare  unhoused  trunks, 
To  Ihe  conflicting  elements  exposed, 
Answer  mere  Nature, — bid  them  flatter  thee. 


OR,   THIXGS   NEW  AXD    OLD.  445 

RepillStOn.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

Strange  is  it,  that  our  Bloods, 
Of  Colour,  Weight,  and  Heat,  pour'd  all  together, 
Would  quite  confound  distinction,  yet  stand  off 
In  differences  so  mighty. 

Reputation.—  Seweii. 

Q  REPUTATION  !  dearer  far  than  Life, 

Thou  precious  balsam,  lovely,  sweet  of  smell, 
Whose  cordial  drops  once  spilt  by  some  rash  hand, 
Not  all  the  owner's  care,  nor  the  repenting  Toil 
Of  the  rude  spiller,  ever  can  collect 
To  its  first  Purity  and  native  Sweetness. 

Resentment.  —  Lutian. 

Even  the  Ant  has  bile. 

Resolution.  —  Shakspeare. 

DE  stirring  as  the  time ;   be  Fire  with  Fire ; 

Threaten  the  Threat'ner,  and  out-face  the  brow 
Of  bragging  Horror  :  so  shall  iuferior  eyes, 
That  borrow  their  behaviours  from  the  Great, 
Grow  great  by  your  example,  and  put  on 
The  dauntless  spirit  of  Resolution. 

Resolution.  —  Shakspeare. 
Do  not,  for  one  repulse,  forego  the  purpose 
That  you  resolved  to  effect. 

Respect  —  GrevUle. 
Respect  is  better  procured  by  exacting  than  soliciting  it. 

icel^ReSpeet.  —  ShaJcspeare. 

To  thine  ownself  be  true ; 
And  it  must  follow,  as  the  Night  the  Day; 
Thou  can'st  not  then  be  false  to  any  man. 

Sbtlbl&ttyetL  —  Fuller. 
"QE  fearful  only  of  thyself;  and  stand  in  awe  of  none  more  than 
of  thine  own   Conscience.     There  is  a  Cato  in  every  man ;  a 
severe  Censor  of  his  Manners.     And  he  that  reverences  this  Judge, 
will  seldom  do  any  thing  he  need  repent  of. 

Responsibility.  —  Shakspeare. 
'Tis  ever  common, 
That  men  are  merriest  when  they  are  from  Home. 

ReStleSSneSS.  —  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
;rTIS  plain  there  is  not  in  Nature  a  point  of  stability  to  be  found: 
every  thing  either  ascends  or  declines  :  when  Wars  are  ended 
abroad,  Sedition  begins  at  home;   and  when  men  are  freed  from 
fighting  for  Necessity,  they  quarrel  through  Ambition. 


446  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

UmiltS.  —  Colton. 
'TO  judge  by  the  event,  is  an  error  all  abuse,  and  all  commit  ;  for, 
in  every  instance,  Courage,  if  crowned  with  success,  is  Heroism  ; 
if  clouded  by  Defeat,  Temerity.  When  Nelson  fought  his  battle 
in  the  Sound,  it  was  the  Result  alone  that  decided  whether  he  was 
to  kiss  a  hand  at  a  Court,  or  a  rod  at  a  Court-Martial. 

Retirement.  —  Goldsmith. 
CWEET  was  the  sound,  when  oft  at  Evening's  close, 

Up  yonder  hill  the  Village  Murmur  rose  : 
There,  as  I  pass'd  with  careless  steps  and  sloWj 
The  mingling  notes  came  soften'd  from  below ; 
The  Swain  responsive  as  the  Milkmaid  sung, 
The  sober  Herd  that  low'd  to  meet  their  young; 
The  noisy  Geese  that  gabbled  o'er  the  pool, 
The  playful  Children  just  let  loose  from  School; 
The  Watch-dog's  voice  that  bay'd  the  whisp'ring  wind, 
And  the  loud  Laugh  that  spoke  the  vacant  mind; 
These  all  in  sweet  Confusion  sought  the  Shade, 
And  fill'd  each  pause  the  Nightingale  had  made. 

Retirement.—  miton. 

A  ND  may  at  last  my  weary  Age 

Find  out  the  peaceful  Hermitage, 
The  hairy  gown  and  mossy  cell, 
Where  I  may  sit  and  rightly  spell 
Of  every  star  that  Heaven  doth  shew, 
And  every  herb  that  sips  the  dew; 
Till  old  Experience  do  attain 
To  something  like  prophetic  strain. 

Retirement.  —  Spenser. 

rTHE  Fields  did  laugh,  the  Floures  did  freshly  spring, 

The  Trees  did  bud,  and  early  blossomes  bore, 
And  all  the  quire  of  Birds  did  sweetly  sing, 
And  told  that  gardin's  pleasures  in  their  Caroling. 

Retirement.  —  Spenser. 

T'O  them  that  list,  the  World's  gay  showes  I  leave, 

And  to  great  ones  such  follies  doe  forgive, 
Which  oft  through  Pride  doe  their  owne  perill  weave, 

And  through  Ambition  downe  themselves  doe  drive 

To  sad  decay,  that  might  contented  live  : 
Me  no  such  cares  nor  cumbrous  thoughts  offend, 

Ne  once  my  Mind's  unmoved  Quiet  grieve, 
But  all  the  night  in  silver  Sleepe  I  spend, 
And  all  the  day,  to  what  I  list  I  doe  attend. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  4-i' 

Retirement.  —  Cowper. 

'THE  fall  of  Waters  and  the  song  of  birds, 
And  hills  that  echo  to  the  distant  herds, 
Are  luxuries  excelling  all  the  glare 
The  World  can  boast,  and  her  chief  Favourites  share. 

l&ettrement.  —  Thomson. 
"N"0  noise,  no  care,  no  Vanity,  no  strife : 

Men,  woods,  and  fields,  all  breathe  untroubled  Life : 
Then  keep  each  Passion  down,  however  dear; 
Trust  me,  the  tender  are  the  most  severe. 
Guard,  while  'tis  thiDC,  thy  philosophic  Ease, 
And  ask  no  Joy  but  that  of  virtuous  Peace; 
That  bids  defiance  to  the  storms  of  Fate, 
High  Bliss  is  only  for  a  higher  state. 

Retirement.  —  Smollett. 

"^"ATURE  I'll  court  in  her  sequester'd  haunts, 

By  Mountain,  Meadow,  streamlet,  grove,  or  cell; 
Where  the  poised  Lark  his  evening  ditty  chaunts, 
And  Health,  and  Peace,  and  Contemplation  dwell. 

Kcttrcment.—  Pope. 

"RORN  to  no  Pride,  inheriting  no  strife, 
Nor  marrying  discord  in  a  noble  Wife, 
Stranger  to  civil  and  religious  rage, 
The  good  man  walk'd  innoxious  through  his  Age; 
No  courts  he  saw,  no  suits  would  ever  try, 
Nor  dared  an  Oath,  nor  hazarded  a  Lie. 
Unlearn'd,  he  knew  no  schoolman's  subtle  art, 
No  language  but  the  language  of  the  Heart. 
By  Nature  honest,  by  Experience  wise, 
Healthy  by  Temp'rance  aid  by  Exercise; 
His  life,  though  long,  to  sickness  pass'd  unknown, 
His  Death  was  instant,  and  without  a  groan. 
Oh  grant  me  thus  to  live,  and  thus  to  die  ! 
Who  sprung  from  Kings  shall  know  less  joy  than  I. 

Retirement.  —  Thomson. 

T\THAT,  what  is  Virtue  but  Repose  of  Mind, 

A  pure  ethereal  Calm,  that  knows  no  storm; 

Above  the  reach  of  wild  Ambition's  wind, 
Above  the  Passions  that  this  world  deform, 
And  torture  Man,  a  proud  malignant  worm  ; 

But  here,  instead,  soft  gales  of  Passion  play, 
And  gently  stir  the  Heart,  thereby  to  form 

A  quicker  sense  of  joy  ;   as  breezes  stray 

Across  th'  cnliven'd  Skies,  and  make  them  still  more  gay, 


448  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

Retirement.  —  Smthey. 

"DUT  peace  was  on  the  Cottage,  and  the  fold 

From  court  intrigue,  from  bickering  faction  far; 
Beneath  the  chestnut  tree  Love's  tale  was  told; 

And  to  the  tinkling  of  the  light  guitar, 
Sweet  stoop'd  the  western  Sun,  sweet  rose  the  evening  Star. 

Retirement  —  Mrs.  Tighe. 

TTOW  much  they  err,  who  to  their  interest  blind, 

Slight  the  calm  Peace  which  from  Retirement  flows ! 
And  while  they  think  their  fleeting  joys  to  bind, 
Banish  the  tranquil  bliss  which  Heaven  for  Man  design'd ! 

Retirement.  —  Hammond. 

\\THAT  joy  to  hear  the  Tempest  howl  in  vain, 
And  clasp  a  fearful  mistress  to  my  breast ! 
Or  lull'd  to  slumber  by  the  beating  Rain, 
Secure  and  bappy,  sink  at  last  to  rest ! 

Retirement.  —Johnson. 
C^OULDST  thou  resign  the  park  and  play,  content, 

For  the  fair  banks  of  Severn  or  of  Trent ; 
There  might'st  thou  find  some  elegant  retreat, 
Some  hireling  Senator's  deserted  seat  j 
And  stretch  thy  prospects  o'er  the  smiling  land, 
For  less  than  rent  the  dungeons  of  the  Strand  ; 
There  prune  thy  walks,  support  thy  drooping  flow'rs, 
Direct  thy  Rivulets,  and  twine  thy  bow'rs; 
And,  while  thy  beds  a  cheap  repast  afford, 
Despise  the  dainties  of  a  venal  Lord  : 
There  every  bush  with  Nature's  music  rings, 
There  every  breeze  bears  Health  upon  its  wings ; 
On  all  thy  hours  Security  shall  smile, 
And  bless  thy  evening  walk  and  morning  toil. 

Retirement.  —  Mrs.  Tighe. 

C\  PSYCHE,  happy  in  thine  Ignorance  ! 

Couldst  thou  but  shun  this  Heart-tormenting  bane ' 
Be  but  content,  nor  daringly  advance 

To  meet  the  bitter  hour  of  threatened  pain  ; 

Pure  spotless  Dove  !  seek  thy  safe  nest  again ; 
Let  true  Affection  shun  the  public  eye, 

And  quit  the  busy  circle  of  the  vain, 
For  there  the  treacherous  snares  concealed  lie ; 
Oh,  timely  warn'd,  escape  !  to  safe  Retirement  fly  ! 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  449 

Retirement.— BeatUe. 

(~)H,  how  canst  thou  renounce  the  boundless  store 
Of  charms  which  Xature  to  her  votary  yields  ! 
The  warbling  woodland,  the  resounding  shore, 
The  pomp  of  groves,  and  garniture  of  fields  ; 
All  that  the  genial  ray  of  Morning  gilds, 
And  all  that  echoes  to  the  song  of  Even, 

All  that  the  Mountain's  sheltering  bosom  shields, 
And  all  tbe  dread  magnificence  of  Heaven, 
Oh,  how  canst  thou  renounce  and  hope  to  be  forgiven ! 

Retirement.  —  Cowper. 

rTHE  Statesman,  Lawyer,  Merchant,  Man  of  Trade 

Pants  for  the  refuge  of  some  rural  Shade, 
Where  all  his  long  anxieties  forgot 
Amid  the  charms  of  a  sequester'd  spot, 
Or  recollected  only  to  gild  o'er 
And  add  a  smile  to  what  was  sweet  before, 
He  may  possess  the  Joys  he  thinks  he  sees, 
Lay  his  old  age  upon  the  lap  of  Ease, 
Improve  the  remnant  of  his  wasted  span, 
And  having  lived  a  Trifler,  die  a  Man. 

Retirement.— Byron. 

rPO  fly  from,  need  not  be  to  hate,  Mankind ; 
All  are  not  fit  with  them  to  stir  and  toil, 
Nor  is  it  Discontent  to  keep  the  Mind 
Deep  in  its  fountain,  lest  it  overboil 
In  the  hot  throng  where  we  become  the  spoil 
Of  our  Infection,  till  too  late  and  long 

We  may  deplore  and  struggle  with  the  coil, 
In  wretched  interchange  of  wrong  for  wrong, 
Midst  a  contentious  World,  striving  where  none  are  strong 

Retirement.  —  Thomson. 
'THE  best  of  men  have  ever  loved  Repose  : 

They  hate  to  mingle  in  the  filthy  fray, 
Where  the  Soul  sours,  and  gradual  Rancour  grows 

Imbitter'd  more  from  peevish  day  to  day. 

Even  those  whom  Fame  has  lent  her  fairest  ray, 
The  most  renown'd  of  worthy  wights  of  yore, 

From  a  base  World  at  last  have  stolen  away. 
So  Scipio,  to  the  soft  Cumaean  shore 
Retiring,  tasted  Joy  he  never  knew  before. 

29 


450  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Retirement  —  Shakspeare. 
[JOW  Use  doth  breed  a  Habit  in  a  man  ! 
This  shadowy  desert,  unfrequented  woods, 
I  better  brook  than  flourishing  peopled  Towns. 

Retrospection.  —  Joanna  Baillie. 
From  the  sad  years  of  Life 
We  sometimes  do  short  Hours,  yea,  Minutes  strike, 
Keen,  blissful,  bright,  never  to  be  forgotten ) 
Which,  thro'  the  dreary  gloom  of  Time  o'erpast, 
Shine  like  fair  sunny  spots  on  a  wild  waste. 

Retrospection.  —  Skakspeare. 
A  LAS,  'tis  true,  I  have  gone  here  and  there, 

And  made  myself  a  motley  to  the  view, 
Gored  my  own  Thoughts,  sold  cheap  what  is  most  dear, 

Made  old  offences  of  Affections  new. 
Most  true  it  is,  that  I  have  look'd  on  Truth 

Askance  and  strangely ;  but,  by  all  above, 
These  blenches  gave  my  Heart  another  youth, 

And  worse  essays  proved  thee  my  best  of  Love. 
Now,  all  is  done,  save  what  shall  have  no  end : 

Mine  appetite  I  never  more  will  grind 
On  newer  proof,  to  try  an  older  Friend, 

A  God  in  love,  to  whom  I  am  confined. 
Then  give  me  welcome,  next  my  Heaven  the  best, 
E'en  to  thy  pure  and  most  most  loving  breast. 

Retrospection.  —Horace. 
tTE  possesses  dominion  over  himself,  and  is  happy,  who  can  every 
day  say,  "  I  have  lived."  To-morrow  the  Heavenly  Father 
may  either  involve  the  World  in  dark  clouds,  or  cheer  it  with  clear 
Sunshine  ;  he  will  not,  however,  render  ineffectual  the  things  which 
have  already  taken  place. 

Retrospection.  —  Steele. 

A    MAN  advanced  in  years,  that  thinks  fit  to  look  back  upon  his 
former  Life,  and  call  that  only  Life  which  was  passed  with  Sa- 
tisfaction and  Enjoyment,  excluding  all  parts  which  were  not  plea- 
sant to  him,  will  find  himself  very  young,  if  not  in  his  Infancy. 

Retrospection.  —Martial 
OF  no  day  can  the  Retrospect  cause  pain  to  a  good  man,  nor  has 
one  passed  away  which  he  is  unwilling  to  remember :  the 
period  of  his  Life  seems  prolonged  by  his  good  acts ;  and  we  may 
be  said  to  live  twice,  when  we  can  reflect  with  Pleasure  on  tho 
lays  that  are  gone. 


OR,  THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD.  451 

Retrospection,  —  Southey. 

T  CAN  remember,  with  unsteady  feet 

Tottering  from  room  to  room,  and  finding  pleasure 
In  Flowers,  and  Toys,  and  Sweetmeats,  things  which  long 
Have  lost  their  power  to  please;  which,  when  I  see  them, 
Raise  only  now  a  melancholy  wish, 
I  were  the  little  Trifler  once  again 
Who  could  be  pleased  so  lightly. 

Iftebenge.  —  Bacon. 

He  that  studieth  Revenge  keepeth  his  own  wounds  green. 

iftebolutton.  —  Coiton. 

T'HE  Mob,  like  the  Ocean,  is  very  seldom  agitated  without  some 
cause    superior   and    exterior   to   itself;   but  (to  continue  the 
simile)  both  are  capable  of  doing  the  greatest  Mischief,  after  the 
cause  which  first  set  them  in  motion  has  ceased  to  act. 

IftebolUttOmgtg.  —  Sir  T.  More. 
T\rHO  quarrel  more  than  Beggars?  Who  does  more  earnestly 
long  for  a  change  than  he  that  is  uneasy  in  his  present  cir- 
cumstances ?  And  who  run  to  create  Confusions  with  so  despe- 
rate a  Boldness,  as  those  who,  having  nothing  else  to  lose,  hope  to 
gain  by  them  ? 

HitfjeSL— Lord  Bacon. 

TJE  not  penny-wise;  Riches  have  Wings,  and  sometimes  they  fly 
away  of  themselves,  sometimes  they  must  be  set  flying  to  bring 
in  more. 

HtdjeS —  Sterne. 

j"F  thou  art  rich,  then  show  the  Greatness  of  thy  Fortune  ;  or 
what  is  better,  the  Greatness  of  thy  Soul,  in  the  meekness  of 
thy  Conversation ;  condescend  to  men  of  low  estate,  support  the 
distressed,  and  patronize  the  neglected.     Be  great, 

l£U$e!5.  —  Martial. 

y^HAT !  Old  and  rich,  and  childless  too, 

And  yet  believe  your  Friends  are  true  ? 
Truth  might  perhaps  to  those  belong, 
To  those  who  loved  you  poor  and  young : 
But,  trust  me,  for  the  new  you  have, 
They'll  love  you  dearly — in  your  Grave. 

Mtcf)e0. —  Montaigne. 

"PLENTY  and  Indigence  depend  upon  the  opinion  every  one  has 
of  them ;  and  Riches,  no  more  than  Glory  or  Health,  have  no 
more  Beauty  or  Pleasure,  than  their  possessor  is  pleased  to  lend 
them. 

2  0 


452         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

IfttCJeS — Young. 
"\rUCH  Learning  shows  how  little  mortals  know; 

Much  Wealth,  how  little  worldlings  can  enjoy  : 
At  best,  it  babies  us  with  endless  toys, 
And  keeps  us  children  till  we  drop  to  dust. 
As  monkeys  at  a  Mirror  stand  amazed, 
They  fail  to  find  what  they  so  plainly  see; 
Thus  men,  in  shining  Riches,  see  the  face 
Of  Happiness,  nor  know  it  is  a  shade; 
But  gaze,  and  touch,  and  peep,  and  peep  again, 
And  wish,  and  wonder  it  is  absent  still. 

!ttCf)e0.—  Sir  T.  Brown. 
He  hath  Riches  sufficient,  who  hath  enough  to  be  charitable. 

3&MtUU.—  Anon. 
T?VERY  age  has  its  besetting  sins;  every  condition  its  attendant 
evils ;  every  state  of  Society  its  Diseases,  that  it  is  especially 
liable  to  be  attacked  by.  One  of  the  pests  which  dog  civilization, 
the  more  so  the  further  it  advances,  is  the  Fear  of  Ridicule ;  and 
seldom  has  the  Contagion  been  so  obnoxious  as  in  England  at  this 
day.  Is  there  anybody  living,  among  the  upper  classes  at  least,- 
who  has  not  often  been  laughed  out  of  what  he  ought  to  have  done, 
and  laughed  into  what  he  ought  not  to  have  done  ?  Who  has  not 
sinned  ?  who  has  not  been  a  runagate  from  Duty  ?  who  has  not 
stifled  his  best  feelings  ?  who  has  not  mortified  his  noblest  desires? 
solely  to  escape  being  laughed  at?  and  not  once  merely;  but  time 
after  time  :  until  that  which  has  so  often  been  checked,  becomes 
stunted,  and  no  longer  dares  lift  up  its  Head.  And  then,  after 
having  been  laughed  down  ourselves,  we  too  join  the  Pack  who 
go  about  laughing  down  others. 

ISaClg  %ii&in%.  —  Doddridge. 
HPHE  difference  between  rising  at  five  and  seven  o'clock  in  the 
Morning,  for  the  space  of  forty  years,  supposing  a  man  to  go 
to   bed  at  the  same  hour  at  Night,  is  nearly  equivalent  to  the 
addition  of  ten  years  to  a  man's  Life. 

?£xtxtmt  Kiqtmx.— Burke. 

AN  extreme  Rigour  is  sure  to  arm  every  thing  against  it,  and  at 
length  to  relax  into  a  supine  Neglect. 

i&Ummit.  —  Shakspeare. 

Rumour  is  a  pipe 
Blown  by  Surmises,  Jealousies,  Conjectures ; 
And  of  so  easy  and  so  plain  a  stop, 
That  the  blunt  Monster  with  uncounted  heads, 
The  still  discordant  wavering  Multitude, 
Can  play  upou  it. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW   AND    OLD.  453 

IftUtttOUr.  —  Shahspeare. 

Loud  Rumour  speaks  : 
I,  from  the  Orient  to  the  drooping  West 
Making  the  wind  my  post-horse,  still  unfold 
The  acts  commenced  on  this  ball  of  Earth : 
Upon  my  tongues  continual  Slanders  ride  ; 
The  which  in  every  language  I  pronounce, 
Stuffing  the  ears  of  Men  with  false  reports. 

Sacrifice.  _  From  the  Greek. 
ITE  that  offers  in  sacrifice,  0  Pamphilus,  a  multitude  of  Bulls 
and  of  Goats,  of  golden  Vestments,  or  purple  Garments,  or 
figures  of  Ivory,  or  precious  Gems,  aud  imagines  by  this  to  con- 
ciliate the  favour  of  God,  is  grossly  mistaken,  and  has  no  solid 
understanding;  for  he  that  would  sacrifice  with  success,  ought  to 
be  chaste  and  charitable,  no  Corrupter  of  Virgins,  no  Adulterer, 
no  Robber  or  Murderer  for  the  sake  of  lucre.  Covet  not,  0  Pam- 
philus, even  the  thread  of  another  man's  needle;  for  God,  who  is 
near  thee,  perpetually  beholds  thy  actions. 

Rational  ^afegiiai'tiS.  —  Alexander  Hamilton. 
QAFETY  'from  external  danger  is  the  most  powerful  director  of 
national  conduct.  Even  the  ardent  love  of  liberty  will,  after  a 
time,  give  way  to  its  dictates.  The  violent  destruction  of  life  and 
property  incident  to  war,  the  continual  effort  and  alarm  attendant 
on  a  state  of  continual  danger,  will  compel  nations  the  most  at- 
tached to  liberty  to  resort  for  repose  and  security  to  institutions 
which  have  a  tendency  to  destroy  their  civil  and  political  rights. 
To  be  more  safe,  they  at  length  become  willing  to  run  the  risk  of 
being  less  free. 

Sftttetg.  —  Shahspeare. 
A  Surfeit  of  the  sweetest  things 
The  deepest  loathing  to  the  Stomach  brings. 

Sattetg.  —  Byron. 

Passion  raves  herself  to  rest,  or  flies; 

And  Vice,  that  digs  her  own  voluptuous  tomb, 
Had  buried  long  his  Hopes,  no  more  to  rise  : 

Pleasure's  pail'd  Victim  !  Life-abhorring  gloom. 

Sattetg.  —  Shahspeare. 
A  S  Surfeit  is  the  Father  of  much  Fast, 

So  every  scope  by  the  immoderate  use 
Turns  to  Restraint  :  Our  natures  do  pursue 
(Like  rats  that  ravin  down  their  proper  bane) 
A  thirsty  Evil;  and  when  we  drink,  we  die. 


154  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Sattetp.  —  Shakspeare. 

The  cloy'd  Will, 
(That  satiate  yet  unsatisfied  Desire, 
That  tub  both  fill'd  and  running,)  ravening  first 
The  Lamb,  longs  after  for  the  Garbage. 

Sattetg.  —  Steele. 
PLEASURE,  when  it  is  a  Man's  chief  purpose,  disappoints 
itself;  and  the  constant  application  to  it  palls  the  faculty  of 
enjoying  it,  though  it  leaves  the  sense  of  our  inability  for  that  we 
wish,  with  a  disrelish  of  every  thing  else.  Thus  the  intermediate 
seasons  of  the  Man  of  Pleasure  are  more  heavy  than  one  would 
impose  upon  the  vilest  Criminal. 

£>atixe.—Pope. 

CATHIE'S  my  weapon,  but  I'm  too  discreet 

To  run  a-muck,  and  tilt  at  all  I  meet ; 
I  only  wear  it  in  a  land  of  Hectors, 
Thieves,  Supercargoes,  Sharpers,  and  Directors. 

Satire.  —  Pope. 

r^URST  be  the  verse,  how  well  soe'er  it  flow, 

That  tends  to  make  one  worthy  man  my  foe, 
Give  Virtue  Scandal,  Innocence  a  Fear, 
Or  from  the  soft-eyed  Virgin  steal  a  tear. 

SatUtfJag  &\gfyt— Burns. 
NOVEMBER  chill  blaws  loud  wi'  angry  sugh», 

The  short'ning  Winter-day  draws  near  a  close; 
The  miry  beasts  retreating  frae  the  Pleugh ; 

The  black'ning  trains  o'  craws  to  their  repose : 

The  toil-worn  Cotter  frae  his  labour  goes, 
This  night  his  weekly  moil  is  at  an  end, 

Collects  his  Spades,  his  Mattocks,  and  his  Hoes, 
Hoping  the  morn  at  ease  and  rest  to  spend, 
And  weary,  o'er  the  Moor,  his  course  does  hameward  bend. 

Sagmg  antj  HBomg.—  Johnson. 

TT  is  not  difficult  to  conceive,  that,  for  many  reasons,  a  man  writes 
much  better  than  he  lives.  For,  without  entering  into  refined 
Speculations,  it  may  be  shown  much  easier  to  design  than  to  per- 
form. A  man  proposes  his  schemes  of  Life  in  a  state  of  abstraction 
and  disengagement,  exempt  from  the  enticements  of  Hope,  the  soli- 
citations of  Affection,  the  importunities  of  Appetite,  or  the  depres- 
sions of  Fear,  and  is  in  the  same  state  with  him  that  teaches  upon 
land  the  art  of  Navigation,  to  whom  the  sea  is  always  smooth,  and 
the  wind  always  prosperous. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  455 

JC&ktttg.  — From  the  Latin. 
VO  Gain  is  so  certain  as  that  which  proceeds  from  the  economical 
use  of  what  you  have 

Scepticism.  —  Coiton. 

A  S  the  Man  of  Pleasure,  by  a  vain  attempt  to  be  more  happy 
than  any  man  can  be,  is  often  more  miserable  than  most  men 
are,  so  the  Sceptic,  in  a  vain  attempt  to  be  wise  beyond  what  is 
permitted  to  man,  plunges  into  a  Darkness  more  deplorable,  and  a 
Blindness  more  incurable  than  that  of  the  common  herd,  whom  he 
despises,  and  would  fain  instruct. 

Scepticism.  —  Greville. 
Human  Knowledge  is  the  parent  of  Doubt 

Scholastic. — Cou&n. 

TO  sentence  a  man  of  true  Genius  to  the  drudgery  of  a  School,  is 
to  put  a  Race  Horse  in  a  mill. 

&tf)00l.  —  Shenstone. 
T^THOE'ER  excels  in  that  we  prize, 

Appears  a  Hero  in  our  eyes  : 
Each  Girl,  when  pleased  with  what  is  taught, 
Will  have  the  teacher  in  her  thought. 
When  Miss  delights  in  her  spinnet, 
A  Fiddler  may  a  fortune  get ; 
A  Blockhead,  with  melodious  voice, 
In  boarding-schools  may  have  his  choice ; 
And  oft  the  Dancing  Master's  art 
Climbs  from  the  toe  to  touch  the  heart. 

Science.  —  Anon. 
J>  ACON'S  prophecies  of  the  advance  of  Science  have  been  fulfilled 
far  beyond  what  even  he  could  have  anticipated.  For  Know- 
ledge partakes  of  Infinity  :  it  widens  with  our  capacities  :  the  higher 
we  mount  in  it,  the  vaster  and  more  magnificent  are  the  prospects 
it  stretches  out  before  us.  Nor  are  we  in  these  days,  as  men  are 
ever  apt  to  imagine  of  their  own  times,  approaching  to  the  end  of 
them  :  nor  shall  we  be  nearer  the  end  a  thousand  years  hence  than 
we  are  now.  The  family  of  Science  has  multiplied  :  new  Sciences, 
hitherto  unnamed,  unthought  of,  have  arisen.  The  seed  which 
Bacon  sowed  sprang  up,  and  grew  to  be  a  mighty  tree  ;  and  the 
Thoughts  of  thousands  of  men  came  and  lodged  in  its  branches  : 
and  those  branches  spread  "  so  broad  and  long,  that  in  the  ground 
the  bended  twigs  took  root,  and  Daughters  grew  about  the  Mother 
Tree,  a  pillared  shade  high  overarched  .  .  .  and  echoing  walks  be- 
tween/' .  .  .  walks  where    Poetry   may   wander,  and   wreathe   hei 


O  2 


156  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

blossoms  around  the  massy  stems,  and  where  Religion  may  hymn 
the  praises  of  that  Wisdom,  of  which  Science  erects  the  Hundred- 
aisled  Temple. 

£Tf)e  Scriptures.— Boyle. 

A    MATCHLESS  Temple,  where  I  delight  to  be,  to  contemplate 
the  Beauty,  the  Symmetry,  and  the  Magnificence  of  the  Struc- 
ture, and  to  increase  my  awe,  and  excite  my  devotion  to  the  Deity 
there  preached  and  adored. 

Cf)e  3km.  — Byron. 

T'HOU  glorious  mirror,  where  the  Almighty's  form 
Glasses  itself  in  Tempests  :  in  all  time, 

Calm  or  convulsed — in  Breeze,  or  Gale,  or  Storm, 
Icing  the  pole,  or  in  the  torrid  clime 
Dark-heaving ; — boundless,  endless,  and  sublime — 

The  image  of  Eternity — the  Throne 

Of  the  Invisible ;  even  from  out  thy  slime 

The  monsters  of  the  deep  are  made  ;  each  Zone 

Obeys  thee ;  thou  goest  forth,  Dread,  Fathomless,  Alone. 

2Tf)e  Sea.—  Byron. 
(^)H,  who  can  tell  ?  not  thou,  luxurious  Slave  ! 

Whose  Soul  would  sicken  o'er  the  heaving  wave; 
Not  thou,  vain  Lord  of  wantonness  and  ease ! 
Whom  Slumber  soothes  not — Pleasures  cannot  please — 
Oh,  who  can  tell,  save  he  whose  heart  hath  tried, 
And  danced  in  triumph  o'er  the  waters  wide, 
The  exulting  sense — the  pulse's  madd'ning  play, 
That  thrills  the  wanderer  of  that  trackless  way  ? 

2Hje  Sea.  —  Sir  A.  Hunt 
T  LOVED  to  stand  on  some  high  beetling  Rock, 

Or  dusky  brow  of  savage  Promontory, 
Watching  the  Waves  with  all  their  white  crests  dancing 
Come,  like  thick-plumed  Squadrons,  to  the  shore, 
Gallantly  bounding. 

Cf)e  Sea.  —  Byron. 

T>OLL  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  Ocean — roll  i 

Ten  thousand  fleets  sweep  over  thee  in  vain ;  ^ 

Man  marks  the  Earth  with  ruin — his  control 
Stops  with  the  shore ;  upon  the  watery  plain 
The  Wrecks  are  all  thy  deed,  nor  doth  remain 

A  shadow  of  man's  ravage,  save  his  own, 
When,  for  a  moment  like  a  drop  of  rain, 

He  sinks  into  thy  depths  with  bubbling  groan, 

Without  a  Grave,  unknell'd,  uncoffin'd,  and  unknown. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND     OLD.  457 


3Tf)e  &Z&.  —  Byton. 

How  happy  they, 
Who,  from  the  toil  and  tumult  of  their  Lives, 
Steal  to  look  down  where  naught  but  Ocean  strives ! 

irecrecg.  —  Coiton. 

CECRECY  has  been  well  termed  the  Soul  of  all  great  designs. 
Perhaps  more  has  been  effected  by  concealing  our  own  inten- 
tions, than  by  discovering  those  of  our  Enemy.     But  great  men 
succeed  in  both. 

%ttXtl£.—  Johnson. 

nrO  tell  your  own  Secrets  is  generally  Folly,  but  that  Folly  is 
without  Guilt;  to  communicate  those  with  which  we  are  in- 
trusted is  always  Treachery,  and  Treachery  for  the  most  part  com- 
bined with  Folly. 

iceCt*CC;r> Mdssinger. 

T  HAVE  play'd  the  Fool,  the  gross  Fool,  to  believe 

The  bosom  of  a  Friend  would  hold  a  Secret 
Mine  own  could  not  contain. 

=*fCreCg.  _  Chesterfield. 
TF  a  Fool  knows  a  Secret,  he  tells  it  because  he  is  a  Fool ;  if  a 
Knave  knows  one,  he  tells  it  whenever  it  is  his  interest  to  tell 
it.     But  Women  and  Young  Men  are  very  apt  to  tell  what  Secrets 
they  know,  from  the  vanity  of  having  been  trusted. 

£ecrec#.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
JTOW  can  we  expect  another  to  keep  our  Secret  if  we  cannot 
keep  it  ourselves  ? 

Security.  —  Cotton. 
TT  is  fortunate  for  the  interests  of  Society,  that  the  great  mass  of 
mankind  are  neither  Kings  nor  Prime  Ministers,  and  that  men 
are  so  impotent  that  they  can  seldom  bring  Evil  upon  others  with- 
out more  or  less  of  danger  to  themselves.  Thus  then  it  is  that 
Public  Strength,  Security,  and  Confidence  grow  out  of  Private 
Weakness,  Danger,  and  Fear. 

^eCUritl).  —  Hume. 
gECURITY  diminishes  the  Passions:  the  Mind,  when  left  to 
itself,  immediately  languishes;  and,  in  order  to  preserve  its 
Ardour,  must  be  every  moment  supported  by  a  new  flow  of  Passion. 
For  the  same  reason  Despair,  though  contrary  to  Security,  has  a 
like  influence. 

SetJUCttCltt.  —  Goldsmith. 

Ah,  turn  thine  eyes 
Where  the  poor  houseless  shivering  Female  lies  : 


458         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

She,  once  perhaps,  in  Village  plenty  blest, 

Has  wept  at  tales  of  Innocence  distrest; 

Her  modest  looks  the  cottage  might  adorn, 

Sweet  as  the  Primrose  peeps  beneath  the  thorn : 

Now  lost  to  all;  her  friends,  her  Virtue  fled, 

Near  her  Betrayer's  door  she  lays  her  head, 

And,  pinch'd  with  cold,  and  shrinking  from  the  show'r, 

With  heavy  Heart  deplores  that  luckless  hour, 

When  idly  first,  ambitious  of  the  Town, 

She  left  her  Wheel  and  robes  of  country  brown. 


SetJUCttUtU—  Moore. 
Heaven  !  I  would  rather  for  ever  forsweai 
The  elysium  that  dwells  in  a  beautiful  breast, 
Than  alarm  for  a  moment  the  Peace  that  is  there, 
Or  banish  the  Dove  from  so  hallow' d  a  nest. 


BY„ 


S^tlUCttOn.  _  Skakspeare. 
'THEN  weigh  what  loss  your  Honour  may  sustain, 

If  with  too  credent  ear  you  list  his  songs ; 
Or  lose  your  Heart;  or  your  chaste  Treasure  open 
To  his  unmaster'd  importunity. 
Fear  it,  fear  it,  my  dear  sister; 
And  keep  you  in  the  rear  of  your  Affection, 
Out  of  the  shot  and  danger  of  Desire. 

i£etfUCttOn*  —  Bums. 
TS  there,  in  human  form,  that  bears  a  Heart- 

A  wretch  !  a  villain  !  lost  to  love  and  Truth  ! 
That  can,  with  studied,  sly,  ensnaring  art, 

Betray  sweet  Jenny's  unsuspecting  youth  ? 

Curse  on  his  perjured  arts  !  dissembling  smooth  ! 
Are  Honour,  Virtue,  Conscience,  all  exiled  ? 

Is  there  no  pity,  no  relenting  ruth, 
Points  to  the  Parents  fondling  o'er  their  Child, 
Tben  paints  the  ruin'd  Maid,  and  their  distraction  wild  ? 

SrtMCttOTU  —  Byron. 

C1HALL  Beauty,  blighted  in  an  hour, 
Find  joy  within  her  broken  bower  ? 
No  :  gayer  insects  fluttering  by 
Ne'er  droop  the  wing  on  those  that  die, 
And  lovelier  things  have  Mercy  shown 
To  every  failing  but  their  own, 
And  every  woe  a  Tear  may  claim, 
Except  an  erring  Sister's  Shame. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  459 

SefcUCttOn.  —  Shalcspeare. 
Ay,  so  you  serve  us, 
Till  we  serve  you  :  but  when  you  have  our  Roses, 
You  barely  leave  our  Thorns  to  prick  ourselves, 
And  mock  us  with  our  barenness. 

Setouctton.—  coiton. 

\TTHEN  Women  send  the  Seduced  to  Coventry,  but  countenance 
and  even  court  the  Seducer,  ought  we  not  to  wonder  if  Se- 
ductions were  scarce  ? 

jSelf^OttCett.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
HPHERE  are  few  people  who  are  more  often  in  the  wrong  than 
those  who  cannot  endure  to  be  so. 

g}tlfz<£antt(il.  —  Anon. 
r)NE  of  the  most  important,  but  one  of  the  most  difficult  things 
for  a  powerful  mind  is,  to  be  its  own  master.  Minerva  should 
always  be  at  hand,  to  restrain  Achilles  from  blindly  following  his 
Impulses  and  Appetites,  even  those  which  are  moral  and  intellec- 
tual, as  well  as  those  which  are  animal  and  sensual.  A  Pond  may 
lie  quiet  in  a  plain ;  but  a  Lake  wants  Mountains  to  compass  and 
hold  it  in. 

SelfsOTontCOl.—  Goethe. 
"V^HAT    is  the  best  Government?      That   which  teaches  us  to 
govern  ourselves. 

Sel^(*!ontrOl.  —  Massinger. 
He  that  would  govern  others,  first  should  be 
The  Master  of  himself. 

&t\U(&tlXi\Xf3l.— English  Proverb. 
[TE  is  a  Fool  who  cannot  be  angry  :  but  he  is  a  wise  man  who 
will  not. 

£clf'OTontrOl.  —  Seneca. 
[  WILL  have  a  care  of  being  a  Slave  to  myself,  for  it  is  a  perpe- 
tual, a  shameful,  and  the  heaviest  of  all  servitudes ;  and  thia  ' 
may  be  done  by  moderate  Desires. 

£elf=OTontrol.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
JHE  Constancy  of  Sages  is  nothing  but  the  art  of  locking  up 
their  Agitation  in  their  hearts. 

~t\U  ^Deception.  —  Gremlle. 
No  Man  was  ever  so  much  deceived  by  another  as  by  himself. 


160  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

i£elf:=3£iamtnatt0n.  —  Pythagoras. 
T  ET  not  Sleep  fall  upon  thy  Eyes  till  thou  hast  thrice  reviewed 
the  transactions  of  the  past  day.  Where  have  I  turned  aside 
from  Rectitude?  What  have  T  been  doing?  What  have  I  left 
undone,  which  I  ought  to  have  done  ?  Begin  thus  from  the  first 
act,  and  proceed  ;  and,  in  conclusion,  at  the  111  which  thou  hast 
done,  be  troubled,  and  rejoice  for  the  Good. 

&tlizlntm$t.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
OUR  Virtues  disappear  when    put  in  competition  with  our  In- 
terests, as  Rivers  lose  themselves  in  the  Ocean. 

&M$tynt$8.  —  Sterne. 
'THERE  are  some  tempers — how  shall  I  describe  them — formed 
either  of  such  impenetrable  matter,  or  wrought  up  by  habitual 
Selfishness  to  such  an  utter  insensibility  of  what  becomes  of  the 
Fortunes  of  their  fellow-creatures,  as  if  they  were  not  partakers  of 
the  same  Nature  or  had  no  lot  or  Connection  at  all  with  the 
species. 

g)M8\)nt88.  —  Young. 
The  Selfish  Heart  deserves  the  pain  it  feels. 
More  gen'rous  Sorrow,  while  it  sinks,  exalts; 
And  conscious  Virtue  mitigates  the  pang. 

Selfishness,  —  Coiton. 

THHERE  are  too  many  who  reverse  both  the  Principles  and  the 
practice  of  the  Apostle ;  they  become  all  things  to  all  Men,  not 
to  serve  others,  but  themselves  ;  and  they  try  all  things  only  to 
hold  fast  that  which  is  bad. 

£elf=3£ttotoletfge.  —  Coiton. 

TTE  that  knows  himself, knows  others;  and  he  that  is  ignorant  of 
himself,  could   not  write  a  very  profound  lecture   on    other 
men's  heads. 

SelfsKttOtDlebge*  —  Anon. 

THE  first  step  to  Self-knowledge  is  Self-distrust.     Nor  can  we  at- 


tain to  any  kind  of  Knowledge,  except  by  a  like  process. 

i£el£=lLrjuc.  —  Coiton. 

T  FEAR  it  must  be  admitted  that  our  Self-love  is  too  apt  to  draw 
some  consolation,  even  from  so  bitter  a  source  as  the  Calamities 
of  others;  and  I  am  the  more  inclined  to  think  so,  when  I  consider 
the  converse  of  this  proposition,  and  reflect  on  what  takes  place 
within  us,  with  respect  to  our  Pleasures.  The  sting  of  our  Pains 
is  diminished  by  the  assurance  that  they  are  common  to  all;  but 
from  feelings  equally  egotistical,  it  unfortunately  happens  that  the 
zest  and   relish  of   our  Pleasures  is  heightened    by  the  contrary 


0  R,   THIX  G  S  NE  W  A  XD    0  L  D.  4(31 

consideration,  namely,  that  they  are  confined  to  ourselves.  This 
conviction  it  is  that  tickles  the  palate  of  the  Epicure,  that  inflames 
the  ardour  of  the  Lover,  that  lends  Ambition  her  ladder,  and  ex- 
tracts the  thorns  from  a  Crown. 

Self^Uobe.  —  Coiton. 

vlELF-LOVE,  in  a  well  regulated  breast,  is  as  the  Steward  of  the 
household,    superintending  the   Expenditure,    and  seeing  that 
Benevolence  herself  should  be  prudential,  in  order  to  be  permanent, 
by  providing  that  the  reservoir  which  feeds  should  also  be  fed. 

£elM3ratSe.  —  Shakspeare. 
There's  not  one  Wise  Man  among  twenty  will  praise  himself. 

£elf-^rttie.  —  Coiton. 

CELF-PRIDE  is  the  common  friend  of  our  Humanity,  and  like 
the  bell  of  our  Church,  is  resorted  to  on  all  occasions ;  it  mi- 
nisters alike  to  our  Festivals,  or  our  Fasts;   our  Merriment,  or  our 
Mourning;  our  Weal,  or  our  Woe. 

Self^HeSpeCt.  —  Shakspeare. 
Consideration  like  an  angel  came, 
And  whipp'd  the  offending  Adam  out  of  him ; 
Leaving  his  body  as  a  Paradise, 
To  envelop  and  contain  celestial  spirits. 

&\U~Cau\W$.—Anon. 
TT  is  a  strange  way  of  showing  our  humble  reverence  and  Love 
for  the  Creator,  to  be  perpetually  condemning  aud  reviling  every 
thing  that  he  has  created.  Were  you  to  tell  a  Poet  that  his 
poems  are  detestable,  would  he  thauk  you  for  the  compliment? 
The  Evil  on  which  it  behooves  us  to  fix  our  eyes,  is  that  within 
ourselves,  of  our  own  begetting ;  the  Good  without.  The  half-re- 
ligious are  apt  just  to  reverse  this. 

^Clf^Uf&CtenCg.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
A    MAN  who  shows  himself  too  well  satisfied  with  himself,  is  sel 
dom  pleased  with  others,  and  they,  in  return,  are  little  dia 
posed  to  like  him. 

£elU&on\unt.  —  Coiton. 

rrHEREare  many  moral  Actaeons,  who  are  as  miserably  devoured 
by  objects  of  their  own  choosing,  as  was  the  fabulous  one,  by 
his  own  Hounds. 

Self^^^OCSfjtp.—  Coiton. 
"\1TERE  we  to  say  that  we  admire  the  tricks  and  gambols  of  a 
Monkey,  but  think  nothing  of  that  Power  that  created  those 
limbs  and  muscles  by  which  these  are  performed — even  a  Coxoomb 


462  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

would  stare  at  such  an  asseveration  j  and  yet  he  is  in  the  daily  com- 
mission of  a  much  grosser  contradiction,  since  he  neglects  his 
Maker,  but  worships  himself. 

SntStutlttp.  —  Moore. 
(~)H  !  Life  is  a  waste  of  wearisome  hours, 

Which  seldom  the  rose  of  Enjoyment  adorns  ; 
And  the  Heart  that  is  soonest  awake  to  the  flowers, 
Is  always  the  first  to  be  touch'd  by  the  thorns. 

Sntmtrilttg.  —  Coiton. 

SENSIBILITY  would  be  a  good  portress,  if  she  had  but  one  hand; 
with  her  right  she  opens  the  door  to  Pleasure,  but  with  her 
left  to  Pain. 

i&enmfltlttp.—  Rogers. 
'THE  soul  of  Music  slumbers  in  the  shell, 

Till  waked  and  kindled  by  the  Master's  spell; 
And  feeling  Hearts — touch  them  but  lightly — pour 
A  thousand  melodies  unheard  before ! 

SenSUalttg.  —  Shakspeare. 
What  is  a  Man, 
If  his  chief  good,  and  market  of  his  time, 
Be  but  to  sleep,  and  feed  ?  a  beast,  no  more. 
Sure,  He,  that  made  us  with  such  large  discourse, 
Looking  before,  and  after,  gave  us  not 
That  capability  and  godlike  Reason 
To  rust  in  us  unused. 

iBenmtalttg.  —  Seneca. 
TF   Sensuality  were   Happiness,  beasts  were  happier  than  men; 
but  human  Felicity  is  lodged  in  the  Soul,  not  in  the  Flesh. 

g>ett0Uaittg. —Shakspeare. 

Ingrateful  Man,  with  liquorish  draughts, 
And  morsels  unctuous,  greases  his  pure  Mind, 
That  from  it  all  consideration  slips. 

Smsualttg.  —Plato. 

'THOSE  wretches  who  never  have  experienced  the  sweets  of 
Wisdom  and  Virtue,  but  spend  all  their  time  in  revels  and 
Debauches,  sink  downward  day  after  day,  and  make  their  whole 
life  one  continued  series  of  errors.  They  never  have  the  courage 
to  lift  the  eye  upward  toward  Truth,  they  never  felt  any  the  least 
inclination  to  it.  They  taste  no  real  or  substantial  Pleasure ;  but, 
resembling  so  many  Brutes,  with  eyes  always  fixed  on  the  Earth, 
and  intent  upon  their  loaden  tables,  they  pamper  themselves  up  in 
Luxury  and  Excess. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  463 

Setbattt*.  —  Fuller. 

TF  thou  hast  a  loitering  Servant,  send  him  of  thy  Errand  just 
before  his  Dinner. 

Serbants.  _  Fuller. 

;fTIS   better  that  thou   be  rather  something  sparing,  than  very 
liberal,  to  even  a  good  Servant  j  for  as  he  grows  full,  he  in- 
clines either  to  be  idle,  or  to  leave  thee  :  and  if  he  should  at  any 
time  murmur,  thou  mayst  govern  him  by  a  seasonable  Reward. 

Serbants.—  Fuller. 

TF  thou  employest  plain  Men,  and  canst  find  such  as  are  commonly 
honest,  they  will  work  faithfully,  and  report  fairly.      Cunning 
Men  will,  for  their  own  Credit,  adventure  without  Command ;  and 
from  thy  business  derive  Credit  to  themselves. 

-CrbantS.  —  Fuller. 
~DE   not  too   familiar  with   thy  Servants;  at  first  it  may  beget 
Love,  but  in  the  end  'twill  breed  Contempt. 

icetbante.  —  Fuller. 

/^OMMAND  thy  Servant  advisably  with  few  plain  Words,  fully, 
freely,  and  positively,  with  a  grave  Countenance,  and  settled 
Carriage :  These  will  procure  Obedience,  gain  Respect,  and  main- 
tain Authority. 

SetbantS.  —  Slienstone. 
'THE  trouble  occasioned  by  want  of  a  Servant,  is  so  much  less 
than  the  plague  of  a  bad  one,  as  it  is  less  painful  to  clean  a 
pair  of  shoes  than  undergo  an  excess  of  Anger. 

Cf)e  &tXt*.—  Cotton. 
~^"0  improvement  that  takes  place  in  either  of  the  Sexes  can 
possibly  be  confined  to  itself;  each  is  an  universal  Mirror  to 
each ;  and  the  respective  Refinement  of  the  one  will  always  be  in 
reciprocal  proportion  to  the  polish  of  the  other. 

icfjafospcate.  —  Anon. 
"PVERY  Age  has  its  own  peculiar  forms  of  moral  and  intellectual 
Life ;  and  Goethe  has  fully  proved  that  an  abundant  store  of 
materials  for  the  creative  powers  of  the  Imagination  were  to  be 
found,  by  those  who  had  Eyes  to  discern  them,  in  what  might  have 
been  deemed  an  utterly  prosaic  Age.  The  difficulty  to  which  I  am 
referring,  is  that  which  he  himself  has  so  happily  expressed,  when 
in  speaking  of  some  comparisons  that  had  been  instituted  between 
himself  and  Shakspeare,  he  said,  "  Shakspeare  always  hits  the 
right  nail  on  the  Head  at  once ;  but  I  have  to  stop  and  think 
which  is  the  right  nail,  before  I  hit/' 

2P 


464  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 

ictjafcSpeate.  —  Dryden. 
CHAKSPEARE  was  the  man  who,  of  all  modem  and  perhaps 
ancient  Poets,  had  the  largest  and  most  comprehensive  Soul. 
All  the  images  of  Nature  were  still  present  to  him,  and  he  drew 
them  not  laboriously,  but  luckily;  when  he  describes  any  thing, 
you  more  than  see  it,  you  feel  it  too.  Those  who  accuse  him  to 
have  wanted  Learning,  give  him  the  greater  commendation  ;  he 
was  naturally  learned ;  he  needed  not  the  spectacles  of  books  to 
read  Nature ;  he  looked  inward,  and  found  her  there. 

&$dk%W$iXt.—Anon. 

"M"0  poet  comes  near  Shakspeare  in  the  number  of  bosom  lines, — 
of  lines  that  we  may  cherish  in  our  bosoms,  and  that  seem 
almost  as  if  they  had  grown  there, — of  lines  that,  like  Bosom 
Friends,  are  ever  at  hand  to  comfort,  counsel,  and  gladden  us 
under  all  the  vicissitudes  of  Life, — of  lines  that,  according  to 
Bacon's  expression,  "  come  home  to  our  business  and  Bosoms/' 

&$ak8$taxe.  —  Anon. 

C\¥  the  wonderful  excellence  of  his  Plays,  we  have  no  reason  for 
believing  that  Shakspeare  was  at  all  aware ;  though  Sterling 
does  not  go  beyond  the  mark,  when  he  says,  that,  "if  in  the  wreck 
of  Britain,  and  all  she  has  produced,  one  creation  of  her  spirit 
could  be  saved  by  an  interposing  Genius,  to  be  the  endowment  of 
a  new  World,"  it  would  be  the  volume  that  contains  them.  Yet 
Shakspeare  himself  did  not  take  the  trouble  of  publishing  that 
volume;  and  even  the  single  Plays  printed  during  his  life  seem  to 
have  been  intended  for  playgoers,  rather  than  to  gain  Fame  for 
their  Author. 

SljafclSpeate.—  Anon. 
*^JO  Heart  would  have  been  strong  enough  to  hold  the  wo  of  Lear 
and  Othello,  except  that  which  had  the  unquenchable  elasticity 
of  Falstaff  and  the  "  Midsummer  Night's  Dream."  He  too  is  an 
example  that  the  perception  of  the  ridiculous  does  not  necessarily 
imply  bitterness  and  scorn,  Along  with  his  intense  Humour,  and 
his  equally  intense  piercing  insight  into  the  darkest,  most  fearful 
depths  of  Human  Nature,  there  is  still  a  spirit  of  universal  Kind- 
ness, as  well  as  universal  Justice,  pervading  his  works  :  and  Ben 
Jonson  has  left  us  a  precious  memorial  of  him,  where  he  calls  him 
"  My  gentle  Shakspeare."  This  one  epithet  sheds  a  beautiful  light 
on  his  character  :  its  truth  is  attested  by  his  Wisdom  :  which  could 
never  have  been  so  perfect,  unless  it  had  been  harmonized  by  the 
gentleness  of  the  Dove. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  465 

£f)afcspeare.  —  Anon. 

CHAKSPEARE'S  genius  could  adapt  itself  with  such  nicety  to 
all  the  varieties  of  ever- varying  Man,  that  in  his  "Titus  An- 
dronicus"  he  has  portrayed  the  very  dress  of  mind  which  the  people 
of  the  declining  Empire  must  have  worn.  I  can  conceive  that  the 
degenerate  Romans  would  clothe  their  thoughts  in  just  such  words. 
The  sayings  of  the  free-garmented  folks  in  "  Julius  Caesar"  could 
not  have  come  from  the  close-buttoned  generation  in  "Othello. " 
Though  human  Passions  are  the  same  in  all  ages,  there  are  modifi- 
cations of  them  dependent  on  the  circumstances  of  time  and  place, 
which  Shakspeare  has  always  caught  and  expressed.  He  has  thus 
given  such  a  national  tinge  and  epochal  propriety  to  his  Characters, 
that,  even  when  one  sees  Jaques  in  a  bag-wig  and  sword,  one  may 
exclaim,  on  being  told  that  he  is  a  French  nobleman,  "This  man 
must  have  lived  at  the  time  when  the  Italian  taste  was  prevalent 
in  France/'  How  differently  does  he  moralize  from  King  Henry 
or  Hamlet !  although  their  Morality,  like  all  morality,  comes  to 
pretty  nearly  the  same  conclusion. 

iotafcspearc— Anon. 

'THE  whole  race  of  the  giants  would  never  pile  an  Ossa  on  this 
Olympus ;  their  missiles  would  roll  back  on  their  heads  from 
the  feet  of  the  Gods  that  dwell  there.  Even  Goethe  and  Schiller, 
when  they  meddled  with  Shakspeare,  and  would  fain  have  mended 
him,  have  only  proved,  what  Voltaire,  and  Dryden  himself,  had 
proved  before,  that  "Within  his  circle  none  can  walk  but  he." 
Nor,  when  Shakspeare's  genius  passed  away  from  the  earth,  did  any 
one  akin  to  him  reign  in  his  stead.  Indeed,  according  to  that  law 
of  alternation,  which  is  so  conspicuous  in  the  whole  history  of 
Literature,  it  mostly  happens  that  a  period  of  extraordinary  Fer- 
tility is  followed  by  a  period  of  Dearth.  After  the  seven  plenteous 
years  come  seven  barren  years,  which  devour  the  produce  of  the 
plenteous  ones,  yet  continue  as  barren  and  ill-favoured  as  ever. 

portrait  Of  f)hnsetf.  —  Shakspeare. 
THOUGH  from  an  humble  stock,  undoubtedly 

Was  fashion'd  to  much  Honour.     From  his  cradle, 
He  was  a  Scholar,  and  a  ripe,  and  good  one; 
Exceeding  wise,  fair  spoken,  and  persuading: 
Lofty,  aud  sour,  to  them  that  loved  him  not; 
But  to  those  men  that  sought  him,  sweet  as  Summer. 

&t)amt.  —  Plaiitus. 
I  consider  that  man  to  be  undone  who  is  insensible  to  Shame. 

SbitkXltBB.  —  FubUus  Syrus. 
THE  sick  man  acts  a  foolish  part,  who  makes  his  Physician  his 
Heir. 


466  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF  TRUTH; 

£0tCkne£S£.  —  Burton. 
QICKNESS,  the  mother  of  Modesty,  puts  us  in  mind  of  our  Mor- 
tality, and  while  we  drive  on  heedlessly  in  the  full  career  of 
worldly  pomp  and  Jollity,  kindly  pulls  us  by  the  ear,  and  brings 
us  to  a  proper  sense  of  our  Duty. 

Silence.  —  Shakspeare. 

The  Silence  often  of  pure  iDnocence 
Persuades,  when  speaking  fails. 

Silence.  —La  Rochefoucauld. 
C1ILENCE  is  the  safest  course  for  any  man  to  adopt  who  distrusts 
himself. 

Silence.  —  Shakspeare. 
0,  my  Antonio,  I  do  know  of  these, 
That  therefore  only  are  reputed  wise, 
For  saying  nothing. 

Silence.  —  Coiton. 

A    MAN'S  Profundity  may  keep  him  from  opening  on  a  first  in- 
terview, and  his  Caution  on  a  second  ;  but  I  should  suspect  his 
Emptiness,  if  he  carried  on  his  Reserve  to  a  third. 

gilCMC.—Bouhours. 
Silence  is  a  Virtue  in  those  who  are  deficient  in  understanding. 

Silence.  —  Burke. 
TE  the  prudence  of  Reserve  and  Decorum  dictates  Silence  in  some 
circumstances,  in  others  prudence  of  a  higher  order  may  justify 
us  in  speaking  our  Thoughts. 

Silence.  —  &  T.  Coleridge. 
Silence  does  not  always  mark  Wisdom. 

Stmpttcitg*--  Shakspeare. 

Whose  Nature  is  so  far  from  doing  harms, 
That  he  suspects  none. 

Simplicity.  —Addison. 
\yHEN  a  man  is  made  up  wholly  of  the  Dove,  without  the  least 
grain  of  the  Serpent  in  his  composition,  he  becomes  ridicu- 
lous in  many  circumstances  of  Life,  and  very  often  discredits  his 
best  actions. 

Simplicity-  —  Steele. 
Simplicity,  of  all  things,  is  the  hardest  to  be  copied. 

Simplicity.  —  Shakspeare. 
He  is  of  a  free  and  open  nature, 
That  thinks  men  honest,  that  but  seem  to  be  so , 
And  will  as  tenderly  be  led  by  th'  Nose, 
As  Asses  are. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  467 

irtTL  —  Barrow. 
CIN  is  never  at  a  stay ;  if  we  do  not  retreat  from  it,  we  shall  ad- 
vance in  it ;  and  the  farther  on  we  go,  the  more  we  have  to 
come  back. 

<Sut»  —  Shakspeare. 
All  unavoided  is  the  doom  of  Destiny, — 
When  avoided  Grace  makes  destiny. 

Sttt.  — Baxter. 
[TSE  Sin  as  it  will  use  you;  spare  it  not,  for  it  will  not  spare 
you ;  it  is  your  Murderer,  and  the  Murderer  of  the  World ; 
use  it,  therefore,  as  a  Murderer  should  be  used.  Kill  it  before  it 
kills  you;  and  though  it  kill  your  bodies,  it  shall  not  be  able  to 
kill  your  souk ;  and  though  it  bring  you  to  the  grave  as  it  did 
your  Head,  it  shall  not  be  able  to  keep  you  there.  If  the  thoughts 
of  Death  and  the  Grave  and  Rottenness  be  not  pleasant  to  you, 
hearken  to  every  temptation  to  Sin,  as  you  would  hearken  to  a 
temptation  to  Self-murder,  and  as  you  would  do  if  the  Devil  brought 
you  a  knife,  and  tempted  you  to  cut  your  throat  with  it :  so  do 
when  he  oifereth  you  the  bait  of  Sin.  You  love  not  Death;  love 
not  the  cause  of  Death. 

5ttt.  — Seneca. 
TVHAT  is  more  miserable  than  to  see  an  old  man  only  just  enter- 
ing on  the  practice  of  Virtue. 

£tn.  —  South. 

QIN  is  the  fruitful  Parent  of  distempers,  and  ill  lives  occasion  good 
Physicians. 

2>ttt.  —  Shakspeare. 

Sin  will  pluck  on  Sin. 

&in.  —  Tillotson. 
fiJHAME  is  a  great  restraint  upon  sinners  at  first;  but  that  soon 
falls  off:  and  when  men  have  once  lost  their  Innocence,  their 
Modesty  is  not  like  to  be  long  troublesome  to  them.  For  Impu- 
dence comes  on  with  Vice,  and  grows  up  with  it.  Lesser  vices  do 
not  banish  all  Shame  and  Modesty;  but  great  and  abominable 
Crimes  harden  men's  foreheads,  and  make  them  shameless.  When 
men  have  the  Heart  to  do  a  very  bad  thing,  they  seldom  want  the 
face  to  bear  it  out. 

Smcetttg.  —  Tillotson. 

CIXCERITY  is  like  travelling  in  a  plain,  beaten  road,  which  com- 
monly brings  a  man  sooner  to  his  journey's  end  than  by-ways, 
in  which  men  often  lose  themselves. 

2p2 


468  ILLUSTRATION'S    OF   TRUTH; 

Sincerity  —  Shakspeare. 
^TIS  Words  are  bonds,  his  Oaths  are  oracles ; 
His  Love  sincere,  his  Thoughts  immaculate ; 
His  Tears,  pure  messengers  sent  from  his  Heart ; 
His  Heart  as  far  from  fraud,  as  Heaven  from  Earth. 

Smceritj).  —  Tiihtson. 

TF  the  show  of  any  thing  be  good  for  any  thing,  I  am  sure  Sincerity 
is  better;  for  why  does  any  man  dissemble,  or  seem  to  be  that 
which  he  is  not,  but  because  he  thinks  it  good  to  have  such  a  Qua- 
lity as  he  pretends  to. 

ShtCerttp,  _  £a  Rochefoucauld. 
"Weak  persons  cannot  be  sincere. 

Sincerity  _£a  Rochefoucauld. 
ClINCERITY  is  an   opening  of  the  Heart.     We  find  it  in  very 
few  people ;  and  that  which  we  generally  see  is  nothing  but  a 
subtle  Dissimulation  to  attract  the  Confidence  of  others. 

jSMttBularttj) — coiton. 

T  ET  those  who  would  affect  Singularity  with  success,  first  deter- 
mine to  be  very  virtuous,  and  they  will  be  sure  to  be  very  sin- 
gular. 

Slander.  —  Spenser. 
A  ND  therein  wore  a  thousand  Tongs  empight 
Of  sundry  kindes  and  sundry  quality  ; 
Some  were  of  Dogs,  that  barked  day  and  night, 
And  some  of  Cats,  that  wrawling  still  did  cry, 
And  some  of  Beares,  that  groynd  continually, 
And  some  of  Tygres,  that  did  seem  to  gren, 

And  snar  at  all  that  ever  passed  by; 
But  most  of  them  were  tongues  of  Mortall  Men, 
Which  spake  reproachfully,  not  caring  where  nor  when. 

ioi&ntlCt,  —  Shakspeare. 
Slander; 
Whose  edge  is  sharper  than  the  Sword;  whose  Tongue 
Out-venoms  all  the  worms  of  Nile;  whose  breath 
Bides  on  the  posting  winds,  and  doth  belie 
All  corners  of  the  World :  Kings,  Queens,  and  States, 
Maids,  Matrons,  nay,  the  secrets  of  the  Grave 
This  viperous  Slander  enters. 

Slander.  —Hare. 
T\TIIEN  will  talkers  refrain  from  Evil-speaking  ?  When  listeners 
refrain  from  Evil-hearins;. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  469 

glZriim.— Byron. 
'THE  circle  smiled,  then  whisper'd,  and  then  sneer'd ; 

The  Misses  bridled,  and  the  Matrons  frown'd ; 
Some  hoped  things  might  not  turn  out  as  they  fear'd ; 
Some  would  not  deem  such  Women  could  be  found ; 
Some  ne'er  believed  one  half  of  what  they  heard  ; 

Some  look'd  perplex'd,  and  others  look'd  profound ; 
And  several  pitied  with  sincere  regret 
Poor  Lord  Augustus  Fitz-Plantagenet. 

iclatrtJet*  —  Spenser. 
TTER  Face  was  ugly,  and  her  Mouth  distort 

Foming  with  poyson  round  about  her  gils, 
In  which  her  cursed  Tongue  full  sharpe  and  short 

Appear'd  like  asp'is  Sting,  that  closely  kils 

Or  cruelly  does  wound  whomso  she  wils. 
A  Distaffe  in  her  other  hand  she  had, 

Upon  the  which  she  little  spinnes,  but  spils; 
And  faynes  to  weave  false  Tales  and  leasing  bad, 
To  throw  amongst  the  Good  which  others  had  disprad. 

irlattticr.  —  Shakspeare. 
T'HE  Shrug,  the  Hum,  or  Ha;  these  petty  brands, 
That  Calumny  doth  use  : — 
For  Calumny  will  sear 
Virtue  itself: — these  Shrugs,  these  Hums,  and  Ha's, 
When  you  have  said,  she's  goodly,  come  between, 
Ere  you  can  say,  she's  honest. 

i&lantlCr.  —  Byron. 
CKILL'D  by  a  touch  to  deepen  Scandal's  tints, 

With  all  the  kind  mendacity  of  hints, 
While  mingling  Truth  with  Falsehood,  sneers  with  smiles, 
A  thread  of  Candour  with  a  web  of  wiles ; 
A  plain  blunt  show  of  briefly-spoken  seeming, 
To  hide  her  bloodless  Heart's  soul-harden'd  scheming; 
A  lip  of  lies,  a  face  form'd  to  conceal ; 
And,  without  feeling,  mock  at  all  who  feel: 
With  a  vile  mask  the  Gorgon  would  disown, 
A  cheek  of  parchment,  and  an  eye  of  stone. 

Slander.  —  Anon. 

Slander  meets  no  regard  from  noble  minds ; 
Only  the  base  believe,  what  the  base  only  utter. 
Slander*  _  Byron. 

That  abominable  Tittle-Tattle, 

The  cud  eschew'd  by  human  cattle. 


470         ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

ftl8ifttf«— Smft. 

~\TOR  do  they  trust  their  Tongues  alone, 

But  speak  a  language  of  their  own  ; 
Can  read  a  Nod,  a  Shrug,  a  Look, 
Far  better  than  a  printed  Book ; 
Convey  a  Libel  in  a  Frown, 
And  wink  a  Reputation  down; 
Or,  by  the  tossing  of  the  fan, 
Describe  the  Lady  and  the  Man. 

gUrititX.—Shakspeare. 
The  jewel,  best  enamell'd, 
Will  lose  his  Beauty;  and  though  Gold  'bides  still, 
That  others  touch,  yet  often  touching  will 
Wear  Gold ;  and  so  no  man  that  hath  a  name, 
But  Falsehood  and  Corruption  doth  it  shame. 

Scantier  .  —  Spenser. 
A   FOUL  and  loathy  Creature  sure  in  sight, 
And  in  conditions  to  be  loath'd  no  lesse, 
For  she  was  stuft  with  Rancour  and  Despight 
Up  to  the  Throat,  that  oft  with  bitternesse 
It  forth  would  breake  and  gush  in  great  excesse, 
Pouring  out  streames  of  Poyson  and  of  Gall 

'Gainst  all  that  Truth  or  Vertue  doe  professe, 
Whom  she  with  leasings  lewdly  did  miscall, 
And  wickedly  backbite  :  her  name  men  Sclaunder  call. 

Siamfrer.  —  Spenser. 
CLAUNDEROUS  reproches,  and  fowle  Infamies, 

Leasings,  backbytinges,  and  vain-glorious  crakes, 
Bad  counsels,  prayses,  and  false  Flatteries ; 
All  those  against  that  fort  did  bend  their  batteries. 

Slander.  _  Scott. 

r\K  !  many  a  shaft,  at  random  sent, 

Finds  mark  the  archer  little  meant ; 
And  many  a  Word,  at  random  spoken, 
May  soothe  or  wound  a  Heart  that's  broken. 

Scantier.  —  Shakspeare. 
We  must  not  stint 
Our  necessary  actions,  in  the  fear 
To  cope  malicious  Censurers  ;  which  ever, 
As  ravenous  Fishes,  do  a  vessel  follow, 
That  is  new  trimm'd  ;  but  benefit  no  farther 
Than  vainly  longing. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  471 

planter.  —  Oowper. 

The  Man  that  dares  traduce  because  he  can 
With  safety  to  himself,  is  not  a  Man. 

Stfatttar.— Byr&n. 

HTHE  World,  as  usual,  wickedly  inclined 

To  see  a  Kingdom  or  a  House  o'erturn'd, 
Whisper'd  he  had  a  mistress;  some  said  two, 
But  for  domestic  quarrels  one  will  do. 

Slanutr.  —  Spenser. 
MO  wound,  which  warlike  hand  of  Enemy 

Inflicts  with  dint  of  sword,  so  sore  doth  light, 
As  doth  the  poysnous  sting  which  Infamy 

Infixeth  in  the  name  of  noble  wight : 

For  by  no  Art  nor  any  Leeches  might 
It  ever  can  recured  be  again ; 

Ne  all  the  skill  which  that  immortal  spright 
Of  Podalyrius  did  in  it  retaine, 
Can  remedy  such  Hurts ;  such  Hurts  are  Hellish  Pain. 

i&lanutr;.  —  Thomson. 

The  whisper'd  tale, 
That,  like  the  fabling  Nile,  no  fountain  knows. 
Fair-faced  Deceit,  whose  wily  conscious  eye 
Ne'er  looks  direct.     The  Tongue  that  licks  the  dust, 
But,  when  it  safely  dares,  as  prompt  to  sting. 

Scantier ShaJcspcare. 

~V"0  might  nor  greatness  in  Mortality 

Can  Censure  'scape ;  back-wounding  Calumny 
The  whitest  Virtue  strikes  :  What  King  so  strong, 
Can  tie  the  gall  up  in  the  slanderous  tongue  ? 

Sleep.  —  Steele. 
TN  thee,  Oppressors  soothe  their  angry  brow ; 

In  thee,  th'  oppress'd  forget  tyrannic  pow'r; 
In  thee, 

The  wretch  condemn'd  is  equal  to  his  Judge ; 
And  the  sad  Lover  to  his  cruel  fair; 
Nay,  all  the  shining  Glories  men  pursue, 
When  thou  art  wanted,  are  but  empty  noise. 

Sleep.  —  Sir  T.Brown. 
CLEEP  is  Death's  younger  brother,  and  so  like  him,  that  I  never 
dare  trust  him  without  my  Prayers. 


472  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

&lCC$.  —  Shakspeare. 

0  gentle  Sleep, 
Nature's  soft  Nurse,  how  have  I  frighted  thee, 
That  thou  no  more  wilt  weigh  my  eyelids  down, 
And  steep  my  senses  in  forgetfulness  ? 
Why  rather,  Sleep,  ly'st  thou  in  smoky  cribs, 
Upon  uneasy  pallets  stretching  thee, 
And  hush'd  with  buzzing  night-flies  to  thy  slumber; 
Than  in  the  perfumed  chambers  of  the  Great, 
Under  the  canopies  of  costly  State, 
And  lull'd  with  sounds  of  sweetest  Melody  ? 
Oh  thou  dull  God,  why  ly'st  thou  with  the  vile 
In  loathsome  beds,  and  leavest  the  kingly  couch 
A  watch-case,  or  a  common  'larura-bell  ? 
Wilt  thou,  upon  the  high  and  giddy  mast, 
Seal  up  the  Ship-boy's  eyes,  and  rock  his  brains, 
In  cradle  of  the  rude  imperious  Surge  ; 
And  in  the  visitation  of  the  winds, 
Who  take  the  ruffian  billows  by  the  top, 
Curling  their  monstrous  heads,  and  hanging  them 
With  deaf'ning  clamours  in  the  slipp'ry  shrouds, 
That,  with  the  hurley,  Death  itself  awakes  ? 
Canst  thou,  0  partial  Sleep,  give  thy  repose 
To  the  wet  Sea-boy  in  an  hour  so  rude  ? 
And,  in  the  calmest  and  the  stillest  Night, 
With  all  appliances  and  means  to  boot, 
Deny  it  to  a  King  ? 

Sleep,  —  Shakspeare. 

'Tis  her  breathing  that 
Perfumes  the  chamber  thus :  The  flame  o'  the  taper 
Bows  toward  her ;  and  would  under-peep  her  lids, 
To  see  the  enclosed  Lights,  now  canopied 
Under  these  Windows  :  White  and  azure,  laced 
With  blue  of  Heaven's  own  tinct. 

Sleep,  —  Shakspeare. 
Q  POLISH'D  Perturbation  !  golden  Care  ! 

That  keep'st  the  ports  of  Slumber  open  wide 
To  many  a  watchful  night ! — sleep  with  it  now  ! 
Yet  not  so  sound,  and  half  so  deeply  sweet, 
As  he,  whose  brow,  with  homely  biggin  bound, 
Snores  out  the  watch  of  Night.     0  Majesty  ! 
When  thou  dost  pinch  thy  bearer,  thou  dost  sit 
Like  a  rich  Armour,  worn  in  heat  of  day, 
That  scalds  with  safety. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  473 

Sleep  ♦  —  Shakspeare. 
gLEEP,  that  knits  up  the  ravell'd  sleeve  of  Care, 

The  Death  of  each  clay's  Life,  sore  Labour's  bath, 
Balm  of  hurt  minds,  great  Nature's  second  course, 
Chief  nourisher  in  Life's  feast ! 

Sleep.  —  Shakspeare. 
"JIS  not  the  Balm,  the  Sceptre  and  the  Ball, 
The  Sword,  the  Mace,  the  Crown  imperial, 
The  enter-tissued  robe  of  gold  and  pearl, 
The  farsed  title  running  'fore  the  King, 
The  throne  he  sits  on,  nor  the  tide  of  pomp 
That  beats  upon  the  high  shore  of  this  world ; 
No,  not  all  these  thrice-gorgeous  Ceremonies, 
Not  all  these,  laid  in  bed  raajestical, 
Can  sleep  so  soundly  as  the  wretched  slave ; 
Who,  with  a  body  fill'd,  and  vacant  mind, 
Gets  him  to  rest,  cramm'd  with  distressful  bread ; 
Never  sees  horrid  Night,  the  child  of  Hell ; 
But,  like  a  lacquey,  from  the  rise  to  set, 
Sweats  in  the  eye  of  Phoebus ;  and  all  night 
Sleeps  in  Elysium  ;  next  day,  after  dawn, 
Doth  rise,  and  help  Hyperion  to  his  horse ; 
And  follows  so  the  ever-running  year 
With  profitable  labour  to  his  grave  : 
And  (but  for  Ceremony)  such  a  wretch, 
Winding  up  Days  with  toil,  and  Nights  with  Sleep, 
Had  the  forehand  and  vantage  of  a  King. 

S^ep.—  Mrs.  Tighe. 

QH  !  thou  best  comforter  of  that  sad  Heart 

Whom  Fortune's  spite  assails )  come,  gentle  Sleep, 

The  weary  mourner  soothe  !     For  well  the  art 
Thou  knowest  in  soft  forgetfulness  to  steep 
The  Eyes  which  Sorrow  taught  to  watch  and  weep; 

Let  blissful  visions  now  her  spirits  cheer, 
Or  lull  her  cares  to  Peace  in  Slumbers  deep, 

Till,  from  fatigue  refresh' d  and  anxious  Fear, 

Hope,  like  the  Morning-star,  once  more  shall  reappear. 

Sleep*  —  Shakspeare. 
"PNJOY  the  honey-heavy  dew  of  Slumber  : 

Thou  hast  no  figures,  nor  no  fantasies, 
Which  busy  Care  draws  in  the  brains  of  men ; 
Therefore  thou  sleep' st  so  sound. 


474  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 

g>Utp.— Young. 

"YTAN'S  rich  Restorative ;  his  balmy  bath, 

That  supples,  lubricates,  and  keeps  in  play 
The  various  movements  of  this  nice  machine, 
Which  asks  such  frequent  periods  of  repair. 
When  tired  with  vain  rotations  of  the  Day, 
Sleep  winds  us  up  for  the  succeeding  dawn ; 
Fresh  we  spin  on,  till  Sickness  clogs  our  wheels, 
Or  Death  quite  breaks  the  spring,  and  motion  ends. 

Sleep.—  Byron. 

Strange  state  of  being  !  (for  'tis  still  to  be) 
Senseless  to  feel,  and  with  seal'd  Eyes  to  see. 

Sleep,—  Byron. 

A  ND  she  bent  o'er  him,  and  he  lay  beneath, 

Hush'd  as  the  babe  upon  its  mother's  breast, 
Droop'd  as  the  Willow  when  no  winds  can  breathe, 

Lull'd  like  the  deep  of  Ocean  when  at  rest, 
Fair  as  the  crowning  rose  of  the  whole  wreath, 
Soft  as  the  callow  Cygnet  in  its  rest. 

£Ut$.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
I  wish  mine  Eyes 
Would,  with  themselves,  shut  up  my  thoughts :  I  find, 

They  are  inclined  to  do  so 

Do  not  omit  the  heavy  offer  of  it ; 

It  seldom  visits  Sorrow ;  when  it  doth, 

It  is  a  Comforter. 

Sleep,  —  Beaumont. 
TTOW  happy  is  that  balm  to  wretches,  Sleep ! 

No  cares  perplex  them  for  their  future  state, 
And  fear  of  Death  thus  dies  in  senseless  Sleep ; 
Unruly  Love  is  this  way  lull'd  to  rest ; 
And  injured  Honour,  when  redress  is  lost, 
Is  no  way  salved  but  this. 

Sleep.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
0  Sleep,  thou  ape  of  Death,  lie  dull  upon  her ! 
And  be  her  sense  but  as  a  Monument, 
Thus  in  a  chapel  lying  ! 

Sl££P*  — Byron. 
'THE  crowd  are  gone,  the  Revellers  at  rest ; 

The  courteous  host,  and  all-approving  guest, 
Again  to  that  accustom'd  couch  must  creep, 
Where  Joy  subsides,  and  Sorrow  sighs  to  sleep, 


OR,  THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  475 

And  man  o'erlabour'd  with  his  being's  strife, 

Shrinks  to  that  sweet  forgetfulness  of  Life  : 

There  lie  Love's  feverish  hope,  and  Cunning's  guile ; 

Hate's  working  brain,  and  lull'd  Ambition's  wile : 

O'er  each  vain  eve  oblivion's  pinions  wave, 

And  quench'd  existence  crouches  in  a  grave. 

What  better  name  may  Slumber's  bed  become  ? 

Night's  Sepulchre,  the  universal  Home, 

Where  Weakness,  Strength,  Vice,  Virtue,  sunk  supine, 

Alike  in  naked  helplessness  recline ; 

Glad  for  awhile  to  heave  unconscious  breath, 

Yet  wake  to  wrestle  with  the  dread  of  death, 

And  shun,  though  day  but  dawn  on  ills  increased, 

That  Sleep,  the  loveliest,  since  it  dreams  the  least. 

Sleep.  —  Shakspeare. 
Downy  Sleep,  Death's  counterfeit. 

SoCtetg.  —  Thomson. 
TTAIL,  social  Life !  into  thy  pleasing  bounds 

Again  I  come  to  pay  the  common  stock, 
My  share  of  service,  and,  in  glad  return, 
To  taste  thy  Comforts,  thy  protected  Joys. 

gomtg.— Byron. 

gOCIETY  itself,  which  should  create 

Kindness,  destroys  what  little  we  had  got : 
To  feel  for  none  is  the  true  social  art 
Of  the  world's  stoics — men  without  a  Heart. 

g>mtt$ Pope. 

TTEAVEN  forming  each  on  other  to  depend, 

A  Master,  or  a  Servant,  or  a  Friend, 
Bid  *  each  on  other  for  assistance  call, 
Till  one  man's  weakness  grows  the  strength  of  all. 
Wants,  Frailties,  Passions,  closer  still  ally 
The  common  interest,  or  endear  the  tie. 
To  these  we  owe  true  Friendship,  Love  sincere, 
Each  home-felt  joy  that  Life  inherits  here. 

£(JCtCtg.  —  Milton. 
Among  unequals  what  Society 
Can  sort,  what  Harmony  or  true  delight. 

£0CtCtp.  —  Cowper. 
A  TAN  in  Society  is  like  a  Flow'r, 

Blown  in  its  native  bed.     'Tis  there  alone 
His  faculties  expanded  in  full  bloom 
Shine  out,  there  only  reach  their  proper  use. 

2Q 


476         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Somtg.  —  Pope. 
A/TAN,  like  the  generous  Vine,  supported  lives : 

The  strength  he  gains  is  from  th'  embrace  he  gives. 
On  their  own  axis  as  the  planets  run, 
Yet  make  at  once  their  circle  round  the  Sun; 
So  two  consistent  motions  act  the  soul ; 
And  one  regards  itself,  and  one  the  whole. 
Thus  God  and  Nature  link'd  the  general  frame, 
And  bade  Self-love  and  Social  be  the  same. 

£0Ctet£-  —  Moore. 
THOUGH  few  the  days,  the  happy  evenings  few, 

So  warm  with  Heart,  so  rich  with  mind  they  flew, 
That  my  full  Soul  forgot  its  wish  to  roam, 
And  rested  there,  as  in  a  dream  at  Home  ! 

&0mtg.— Byron. 

Society  is  now  one  polish'd  Horde, 

Form'd  of  two  mighty  tribes,  the  Bores  and  Bored. 

SuCtCtj).  —  Charron. 
Q.REAT  towns  are  but  a  larger  sort  of  prison  to  the  Soul,  like 
cages  to  birds,  or  pounds  to  beasts. 

Softness.  —  Shakspeare. 
He  hath  a  person,  and  a  smooth  dispose, 
To  be  suspected;  framed  to  make  Women  false. 

SulttUfre.—  Pope. 
"DEAR,  me,  some  God  !  oh,  quickly  bear  me  hence 

To  wholesome  Solitude,  the  nurse  of  Sense ; 
Where  Contemplation  prunes  her  ruffled  wings, 
And  the  free  soul  looks  down  to  pity  Kings ! 

SolttUtie.—  Beattie. 
A  ND  oft  the  craggy  Cliff  he  loved  to  climb, 

When  all  in  mist  the  World  below  was  lost. 
What  dreadful  Pleasure  !  there  to  stand  sublime, 
Like  shipwreck'd  mariner  on  desert  coast, 
And  view  th'  enormous  waste  of  Vapour,  tost 
In  billows,  lengthening  to  th'  horizon  round, 

Now  scoop'd  in  gulfs,  with  mountains  now  emboss'd  ! 
And  hear  the  voice  of  mirth  and  song  rebound, 
Flocks,  Herds,  and  Waterfalls,  along  the  hoar  profound ! 
g>Olttttfcf.—  Bd&rmne. 
SOLITUDE  is  one  of  the  highest  enjoyments  of  which  our  Na- 
ture is  susceptible.     Solitude  is  also,  when  too  long  continued, 
capable  of  being  made  the  most  severe,  indescribable,  unendurable 
source  of  Anguish. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AXD     OLD.  477 


JCClttUtJC  —  Byron. 
nrO  sit  on  rocks,  to  muse  o'er  flood  and  fell, 
To  slowly  trace  the  Forest's  shady  scene, 
Where  things  that  own  not  Man's  dominion  dwell, 

And  mortal  foot  hath  ne'er,  or  rarely  been  ; 

To  climb  the  trackless  mountain  all  unseen, 
With  the  wild  flock  that  never  needs  a  fold; 

Alone  o'er  steeps  and  foaming  falls  to  lean  : 
This  is  not  Solitude;  'tis  but  to  hold 
Converse  with  Nature's  charms,  and  see  her  stores  unroll'd. 

But  midst  the  crowd,  the  hum,  the  shock  of  Men, 
To  hear,  to  see,  to  feel,  and  to  possess, 

And  roam  along,  the  World's  tired  denizen, 
With  none  to  bless  us,  none  whom  we  can  bless ; 
Minions  of  splendour  shrinking  from  distress  ! 

None  that,  with  kindred  Consciousness  endued, 
If  we  were  not,  would  seem  to  smile  the  less 

Of  all  that  flatter'd,  follow'd,  sought,  and  sued; 

This  is  to  be  alone ;  this,  this  is  Solitude  ! 

<£olttUtJC  —  Byron. 
TF  Solitude  succeed  to  Grief, 

Release  from  pain  is  slight  relief, 
The  vacant  bosom's  wilderness 
Might  thank  the  pang  that  made  it  less. 
We  loathe  what  none  are  left  to  share — 
Even  Bliss — 'twere  Wo  alone  to  bear. 
The  Heart  once  left  thus  desolate, 
Must  fly  at  last,  for  ease — to  hate. 

iCClttUfce.  —  Rochester. 
T)EAR  solitary  groves,  where  Peace  does  dwell ! 
Sweet  harbours  of  pure  Love  and  Innocence  ! 
How  willingly  could  I  for  ever  stay 
Beueath  the  shade  of  your  embracing  greens, 
List'ning  to  the  Harmony  of  warbling  birds, 
Tuned  with  the  gentle  murmur  of  the  streams ; 
Upon  whose  bank,  in  various  livery, 
The  fragrant  offspring  of  the  early  year, 
Their  heads,  like  graceful  swans,  bent  proudly  down, 
See  their  own  beauties  in  the  crystal  Flood. 

SolttUne.  —  Byron. 
J"  LIVE  not  in  myself,  but  I  become 

Portion  of  that  around  me ;  and  to  me, 
High  Mountain*  are  a  feeling,  but  the  hum 
Of  human  cities  Torture. 


478  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

SolttUfce.  —  Young. 
The  World's  a  school 
Of  wrong,  and  what  proficients  swarm  around  ! 
We  must  imitate,  or  disapprove; 
Must  list  as  their  accomplices,  or  foes. 
That  stains  our  Innocence;  this  wounds  our  Peace. 
From  nature's  birth,  hence,  Wisdom  has  been  smit 
With  sweet  Recess,  and  languish'd  for  the  Shade. 

&OittlrtlC.—  Milton. 
'THERE  in  close  covert  by  some  brook, 

Where  no  profaner  eye  may  look, 
Hide  me  from  Day's  garish  eye, 
While  the  bee  with  honied  thigh, 
That  at  her  flowery  work  doth  sing, 
And  the  Waters  murmuring, 
With  such  consort  as  they  keep, 
Entice  the  dewy  -feather'  d  Sleep. 

icdlttUtie.  —  Byron. 

rrHERE  is  a  Pleasure  in  the  pathless  woods, 
There  is  a  Rapture  on  the  lonely  shore, 

There  is  Society,  where  none  intrudes, 
By  the  deep  sea,  and  music  in  its  roar : 
I  love  not  Man  the  less,  but  Nature  more, 

From  these  our  interviews,  in  which  I  steal 
From  all  I  may  be,  or  have  been  before, 

To  mingle  with  the  Universe,  and  feel 

What  I  can  ne'er  express,  yet  cannot  all  conceal. 

icOlttUtie.  —  Byron. 
A  RE  not  the  Mountains,  Waves,  and  Skies,  a  part 
Of  me  and  of  my  Soul,  as  I  of  them  ? 
Is  not  the  love  of  these  deep  in  my  heart 
With  a  pure  Passion  ?  should  I  not  contemn 
All  objects,  if  compared  with  these  !  and  stem 
A  tide  of  sufferings,  rather  than  forego 

Such  feelings  for  the  hard  and  worldly  phlegm 
Of  those  whose  eyes  are  only  turn'd  below, 
Gazing  upon  the  ground,  with  thoughts  which  dare  not 
glow  ? 

icOlttUtie.  —  Byron. 
T)ERHAPS  there's  nothing — I'll  not  say  appals, 

But  saddens  more  by  Night  as  well  as  day, 
Than  an  enormous  Room  without  a  soul 
To  break  the  lifeless  Splendour  of  the  whole. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  479 

SolttUto*  —  Spenser. 
'THE  joyous  Birdes,  shrouded  in  chearefull  shade, 

Their  notes  unto  the  voice  attempred  sweet  j 
Th'  angelicall  soft  trembling  voyees  made 

To  th'  instruments  divine  Respondence  meet; 

The  silver  sounding  instruments  did  meet 
With  the  base  murmure  of  the  Waters  fall ; 

The  Waters  fall  with  difference  discreet, 
Now  soft,  now  loud,  unto  the  Wind  did  call ; 
The  gentle  warbling  Wind  low  answered  to  all. 

Solttlttie.—  Young. 

0  SACRED  Solitude!  divine  Retreat ! 

Choice  of  the  prudent !  envy  of  the  great ! 
By  thy  pure  stream,  or  in  thy  waving  shade, 
We  court  fair  Wisdom,  that  celestial  maid  : 
The  genuine  offspring  of  her  loved  embrace, 
(Strangers  on  earth !)  are  Innocence  and  Peace. 

SolttUtie.  —  Cowper. 
How  sweet,  how  passing  sweet,  is  Solitude ! 
But  grant  me  still  a  friend  in  my  retreat, 
Whom  I  may  whisper,  Solitude  is  sweet. 

JCOlttlrtie.  —  Milton. 
Solitude  is  sometimes  best  society, 
And  short  Retirement  urges  sweet  return. 

i&OlitUtie.  —  Young. 
Oh  !  lost  to  Virtue,  lost  to  manly  Thought, 
Lost  to  the  noble  sallies  of  the  Soul ! 
Who  think  it  Solitude  to  be  alone. 

JCOlttUto.  —  Rogers. 
No,  'tis  not  here  that  Solitude  is  known. 
Through  the  wide  World  he  only  is  alone 
Who  lives  not  for  another. 

j&OlttUtie.—  Byron. 
(~)H  !  that  the  Desert  were  my  dwelling-place, 

With  one  fair  spirit  for  my  minister, 
That  I  might  all  forget  the  Human  Race, 
And,  hating  no  one,  love  but  only  her ! 
Ye  Elements  ! — in  whose  ennobling  stir 

1  feel  myself  exalted — Can  ye  not 

Accord  me  such  a  being  ?  Do  I  err 
In  deeming  such  inhabit  many  a  spot? 
Though  with  thorn  to  converse  can  rarely  be  our  lot 

2q2 


480  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH, 

JCOlttlltie.—  Campbell. 
ENTHUSIAST  of  the  Woods  !  when  years  apace 

Had  bound  thy  lovely  waist  with  woman's  zone, 
The  sunrise  Path  at  morn  I  see  thee  trace, 
To  hills  with  high  Magnolia  overgrown, 
And  joy  to  breathe  the  Groves,  romantic  and  alone 

Sfltttlto).  —  Shakspeare. 
The  Heart  hath  treble  wrong, 
When  it  is  barr'd  the  aidance  of  the  Tongue. 

An  oven  that  is  stopped,  or  River  staid, 
Burneth  more  hotly,  swelleth  with  more  rage  : 
So  of  concealed  Sorrow  may  be  said. 

Sotroto.  —Johnson. 
QORROW  is  a  kind  of  rust  of  the  Soul,  which  every  new  idea 
contributes  in  its  passage  to  scour  away.     It  is  the  putrefac- 
tion of  stagnant  Life,  and  is  remedied  by  Exercise  and  Motion 

icOtrofcO.  —  Shakspeare. 
Short  time  seems  long,  in  Sorrow's  sharp  sustaining, 
Though  Wo  be  heavy,  yet  it  seldom  sleeps, 
And  they  who  watch,  see  Time  how  slow  it  creeps. 

SortOb).  —  Shakspeare. 
Sorrow,  like  a  heavy-hanging  Bell, 
Once  set  on  ringing,  with  his  own  weight  goes : 
Then  little  strength  rings  out  the  doleful  knell. 

SottOto.  —  Shakspeare. 
Give  Sorrow  words  :  the  Grief,  that  does  not  speak, 
Whispers  the  o'erfraught  Heart,  and  bids  it  break. 

SOtroto.  —  Shakspeare. 
Impatience  waiteth  on  true  Sorrow. 

JcCrruto.  —  Shakspeare. 
OH,  if  thou  teach  me  to  believe  this  Sorrow, 

Teach  thou  this  Sorrow  how  to  make  me  die ; 
And  let  belief  and  Life  encounter  so, 
As  doth  the  fury  of  two  desperate  Men, 
Which,  in  the  very  meeting,  fall  and  die. 

£c8lT0u3.  —  Shakspeare. 
We  are  fellows  still, 
Serving  alike  in  Sorrow.     Lcak'd  is  our  Bark, 
And  we,  poor  mates,  stand  on  the  dying  deck, 
Hearing  the  surges  threat :  we  must  all  part 
into  the  Sea  of  Air. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  481 


icOClOh).  —  Shakspeare. 
"RUT  lie,  nis  own  affections'  Counsellor, 

Is  to  himself,  I  will  not  say,  how  true ; 
But  to  himself  so  secret  and  so  close, 
So  far  from  sounding  and  Discovery; 
As  is  the  bud  bit  with  an  envious  worm, 
Ere  he  can  spread  his  sweet  leaves  to  the  air, 
Or  dedicate  his  Beauty  to  the  Sun. 

Sorrcto*  _  Shakspeare. 
AND  now  and  then  an  ample  Tear  trill'd  down 

Her  delicate  cheek  :  it  seem'd,  she  was  a  Queen 
Over  her  passion,  which,  most  rebel-like, 
Sought  to  be  King  o'er  her. 
Patience  and  Sorrow  strove 

Which  should  express  her  goodliest.     You  have  seen 
Sunshine  and  rain  at  once  : — her  Smiles  and  Tears 
Were  like  a  wetter  May.     Those  happiest  smiles, 
That  play'd  on  her  ripe  lip,  seem'd  not  to  know 
What  guests  were  in  her  Eyes ;  which  parted  thence, 
As  pearls  from  diamonds  dropt. — In  brief, 
Sorrow  would  be  a  Rarity  most  beloved, 
If  all  could  so  become  it. 

SottOto.  —  Shakspeare. 

T  0  !  here  the  hopeless  merchant  of  this  loss, 

With  head  declined,  and  Voice  dam  in 'd  up  with  wo 
With  sad  set  eyes  and  wretched  arms  across, 

From  lips  new-waxen  pale  begins  to  blow 

The  Grief  away,  that  stops  his  answer  so ; 
But  wretched  as  he  is,  he  strives  in  vain  ; 
What  he  breathes  out,  his  Breath  drinks  up  again. 

As  through  an  arch  the  violent  roaring  tide 
Out-runs  the  eye,  that  doth  behold  his  haste; 

Yet  in  the  eddy  boundeth  in  his  Pride 
Back  to  the  strait,  that  forced  him  on  so  fast, 
In  rage  sent  out,  recall'd  in  rage  being  past : 
Even  so  his  sighs,  his  Sorrows,  make  a  saw, 
To  push  Grief  on,  and  back  the  same  Grief  draw. 

SortOto.  —  Thomson. 

So  many  great 
Illustrious  spirits  have  conversed  with  Wo, 
Have  in  her  school  been  taught,  as  are  enough 
To  consecrate  Distress,  and  make  Ambition 
Even  wish  the  frown  beyond  the  smile  of  Fortune. 


182  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

^0  CCO  lU,  —  Shakspeare. 
I  never  saw  a  vessel  of  like  Sorrow, 
So  fill'd,  and  so  becoming. 

JcOCrOUJ.  —  Shakspeare. 

When  my  Heart, 
As  wedged  with  a  sigh,  would  rive  in  twain, 
Lest  Hector  or  my  father  should  perceive  me ; 
I  have  (as  when  the  Sun  doth  light  a  storm) 
Buried  this  Sigh  in  wrinkle  of  a  Smile  : 
But  Sorrow,  that  is  couch'd  in  seeming  Gladness, 
Is  like  that  Mirth  Fate  turns  to  sudden  Sadness. 

2H)e  SbOUl.  —  Shakspeare. 
Look,  who  comes  here  !  a  Grave  unto  a  Soul ; 
Holding  the  eternal  Spirit  against  her  will, 
In  the  vile  prison  of  afflicted  breath. 

^§Z  icOUl. — Joanna  Baillie. 

He  who  will  not  give 
Some  portion  of  his  Ease,  his  Blood,  his  Wealth, 
For  other's  Good,  is  a  poor  frozen  churl. 

Ef)0  SOttl.  —  Shakspeare. 
"POOR  Soul,  the  centre  of  my  sinful  earth, 

Fool'd  by  those  rebel  powers  that  thee  array, 
Why  dost  thou  pine  within,  and  suffer  dearth, 

Painting  thy  outward  walls  so  costly  gay  ? 
Why  so  large  cost,  having  so  short  a  lease, 

Dost  thou  upon  thy  fading  mansion  spend  ? 
Shall  worms,  inheritors  of  this  excess, 

Eat  up  thy  charge  ?     Is  this  thy  Body's  end  ? 
Then,  Soul,  live  thou  upon  thy  servant's  loss, 
And  let  that  pine  to  aggravate  thy  store  ; 
Buy  terms  Divine  in  selling  hours  of  dross; 
Within  be  fed,  without  be  rich  no  more  : 
So  shalt  thou  feed  on  Death,  that  feeds  on  men : 
And,  Death  once  dead,  there's  no  more  dying  then. 

SHjC  Sbml.  —  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
T?iri*t£R  we  have  an  immortal  Soul,  or  we  have  not.  If  we 
have  not,  we  are  Beasts ;  the  first  and  wisest  of  beasts,  it  may 
be  ;  but  still  true  Beasts.  We  shall  only  differ  in  degree,  and  not 
in  kind ;  just  as  the  elephant  differs  from  the  slug.  But  by  the 
concession  of  the  materialists  of  all  the  schools,  or  almost  all,  we 
are  not  of  the  same  kind  as  Beasts ;  and  this  also  we  say  from  our 
own  Consciousness.  Therefore,  methinks,  it  must  be  the  possession 
of  a  Soul  within  us  that  makes  the  difference. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND   OLD.  483 

Cf)e  SOUl.  —  Cicero. 

TF  I  am  mistaken  in  mj  opinion  that  the  Human  Soul  is  im- 
mortal, I  willingly  err;  nor  would  I  have  this  pleasant  Error 
extorted  from  me  :  and  if,  as  some  minute  Philosophers  suppose,, 
Death  should  deprive  me  of  my  being,  I  need  not  fear  the  raillery 
of  those  pretended  Philosophers  when  they  are  no  more. 

Cf)e  icOUL  —  Jean  Paul. 
'THERE  are  Souls  which  fall  from  Heaven  like  flowers ;  but  ere 
the   pure  and  fresh   buds  cau  open,  they  are  trodden  in  the 
dust  of  the  Earth,  and  lie  soiled  and  crushed  under  the  foul  tread 
of  some  brutal  Hoof. 

Cf)e  5)0ttL— Addison. 

'THE  Soul,  secure  in  her  existence,  smiles 

At  the  drawn  dagger,  and  defies  its  point : 
The  Stars  shall  fade  away,  the  Sun  himself 
Grow  dim  with  age  ;  and  Nature  sink  in  years  : 
But  thou  shalt  flourish  in  immortal  youth, 
Unhurt  amid  the  War  of  Elements, 
The  Wreck  of  matter,  and  the  crash  of  Worlds. 

£Tf)C  jcOUL—  Armstrong. 
'THERE  is,  they  say,  (and  I  believe  there  is,) 

A  spark  within  us  of  th'  Immortal  Fire, 
That  animates  and  moulds  the  grosser  frame ; 
And  when  the  Body  sinks,  escapes  to  Heaven, 
Its  native  seat,  and  mixes  with  the  Gods. 

3Tf)e  SOUL  —  Montgomery. 
'THE  Soul,  of  origin  divine, 

God's  glorious  Image,  freed  from  clay, 
In  Heaven's  eternal  sphere  shall  shine 

A  Star  of  Day  ! 
The  Sun  is  but  a  spark  of  Fire, 
A  transient  meteor  in  the  sky ; 
The  Soul,  immortal  as  its  Sire, 

Shall  never  die. 

Cfje  JcuUl.  —Hannah  More. 
'THE  Soul  on  earth  is  an  immortal  guest, 
Compell'd  to  starve  at  an  unreal  feast : 
A  spark,  which  upward  tends  by  Nature's  force  : 
A  stream  diverted  from  its  Parent  source ; 
A  drop  dissever'd  from  the  boundless  Sea ; 
A  moment,  parted  from  Eternity; 
A  Pilgrim  panting  for  the  rest  to  come; 
An  Exile,  anxious  for  his  native  Home. 


484  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Cf)C  £0UL—  Rahel. 
'J'HE  Affections  and  the  Will  know  nothing  of  a  future;  the 
Mind — the  Judgement — calls  it  up  and  gives  it  the  force  ana 
Life  of  the  present.  The  Mind  alone  is  free,  self-acting,  and 
directed  toward  the  unknown ;  the  Heart  is  bound  to  what  is 
before  it. 

2H)e  &0Ul.  — Sterne. 
J>EST  unto  our  souls! — 'tis  all  we  want — the  end  of  all  our 
wishes  and  pursuits :  give  us  a  prospect  of  this,  we  take  the 
wings  of  the  Morning  and  fly  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  Earth 
to  have  it  in  possession  :  till  after  many  miserable  experiments,  we 
have  been  seeking  everywhere  for  it,  but  where  there  is  a  prospect 
of  finding  it ;  and  that  is  within  ourselves,  in  a  meek  and  lowly 
disposition  of  heart. 

Cf)e  *0UL  —  Greville. 
f  HARDLY   know  a  sight  that   raises  one's   Indignation  more, 
than  that  of  an  enlarged  Soul  joined  to  a  contracted  Fortune; 
unless  it  be  that  so  much  more  common  one,  of  a  contracted  Soul 
joined  to  an  enlarged  Fortune. 

^ptttt.—  Byron. 
JJEAUTIFUL  Spirit !  with  thy  hair  of  light, 
And  dazzling  eyes  of  Glory,  in  whose  form 
The  charms  of  Earth's  least  mortal  daughters  grow 
To  an  unearthly  stature,  in  an  essence 
Of  purer  Elements  ;  while  the  hues  of  Youth, — 
Carnation'd  like  a  sleeping  infant's  cheek, 
Rock'd  by  the  beating  of  her  mother's  Heart, 
Or  the  rose-tints,  which  summer's  twilight  leaves 
Upon  the  lofty  glacier's  virgin  snow, 
The  blush  of  Earth,  embracing  with  her  Heaven, — 
Tinge  thy  celestial  aspect,  and  make  tame 
The  beauties  of  the  Sunbow  which  bends  o'er  thee. 

Ivtgfjt  ^Ptrtt.  —Jonathan Edwards. 

A    MAN  of  a  Right  Spirit  is  not  a  man  of  narrow  and  private 

views,  but  is  greatly  interested  and  concerned  for  the  good  of 

the  community  to  which  he  belongs,  and  particularly  of  the  city  or 

village  in  which  he  resides,  and  for  the  true  welfare  of  the  society 

of  which  he  is  a  member. 

SHje  Spleen.  — Pope. 

Hail,  wayward  Queen ! 
Who  rule  the  sex  to  fifty  from  fifteen; 
Parent  of  vapours,  and  of  female  wit, 
Who  give  th'  hysteric,  or  poetic  Fit, 
On  various  Tempers  act  by  various  ways, 


OR,    TIIIXGS  XEW  AND    OLD.  48i 

Make  some  take  Physic,  others  scribble  plays ; 
Who  cause  the  proud  their  visits  to  delay, 
And  send  the  Godly  in  a  pet  to  pray. 

Cf)e  g>$Uttl.— Byron. 

ONE  has  false  Curls,  another  too  much  paint, 

A  third — where  did  she  buy  that  frightful  Turban  ? 
A  fourth's  so  pale,  she  fears  she's  going  to  faint, 

A  fifth's  looks  vulgar,  dowdyish  and  suburban, 
A  sixth's  white  Silk  has  got  a  yellow  taint : 

A  seventh's  thin  Muslin  surely  will  be  her  bane, 
And  lo  !  an  eighth  appears — "  I'll  see  no  more  !" 
For  fear,  like  Banquo's  kings,  they  reach  a  score. 

C J)e  Spring.  —  Thomson. 

In  these  green  days, 
Reviving  Sickness  lifts  her  languid  head ; 
Life  flows  afresh ;  and  young-eyed  Health  exalts 
The  whole  creation  round.     Coutentment  walks 
The  sunny  glade,  and  feels  an  inward  bliss 
Spring  o'er  his  mind,  beyond  the  power  of  Kings 
To  purchase. 

&te  Spring.  —  Thomson. 
Wide  flush  the  fields ;  the  softening  Air  is  balm ; 
Echo  the  mountains  round;   the  Forest  smiles; 
And  every  Sense,  and  every  Heart  is  Joy. 

&je  Spring.—  miton. 

TTAIL  bounteous  May,  that  dost  inspire 

Mirth,  Youth,  and  warm  Desire  : 
Woods  and  groves  are  of  thy  dressing, 
Hill  and  dale  doth  boast  thy  Blessing. 

&!)£  Opting.  —  Thomson. 
"PROM  the  moist  meadow  to  the  wither'd  hill, 
Led  by  the  breeze,  the  vivid  verdure  runs, 
And  swells,  and  deepens;  to  the  cherish'd  eye 
The  hawthorn  whitens;  and  the  juicy  groves 
Put  forth  their  buds,  unfolding  by  degrees, 
Till  the  whole  leafy  Forest  stands  display'd, 
In  full  luxuriance  to  the  sighing  gales. 

Cfje  Statesman.  —  MUtan, 

With  grave 
Aspect  he  rose,  and  in  his  rising  seem'd 
A  Pillar  of  State ;  deep  on  his  front  engraven 
Deliberation  sat,  and  public  Care  ; 
And  princely  counsel  in  his  face  shone 
Majestic. 


4*6  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

Cf)C  ftaitteStorm.  _  Thomson. 

A  LONG  the  woods,  along  the  moorish  fens, 

Sighs  the  sad  Genius  of  the  coming  Storm ; 
And  up  among  the  loose  disjointed  cliffs 
And  fractured  mountains  wild,  the  brawling  brook 
And  cave,  presageful,  send  a  hollow  m£>an, 
Resounding  long  in  listening  Fancy's  ear. 

Cf)e  ILanbz&tQxm.  —  Thomso?i. 

A  boding  silence  reigns, 
Dread  through  the  dun  expanse  j   save  the  dull  sound 
That  from  the  Mountain,  previous  to  the  Storm, 
Rolls  o'er  the  muttering  earth,  disturbs  the  flood, 
And  shakes  the  forest  leaf  without  a  breath. 
Prone,  to  the  lowest  vale,  aerial  tribes 
Descend  :  the  tempest-loving  raven  scarce 
Dares  wing  the  dubious  dusk.     In  rueful  gaze 
The  Cattle  stand,  and  on  the  scowling  heavens 
Cast  a  deploring  eye ;  by  Man  forsook, 
Who  to  the  crowded  Cottage  hies  him  fast, 
Or  seeks  the  shelter  of  the  downward  Cave. 

3T{)e  Smoto^tOnit.  _  Thomson. 
TN  vain  for  him  the  officious  Wife  prepares 

The  fire  fair  blazing,  and  the  vestment  warm ; 
In  vain  his  little  children,  peeping  out, 
Into  the  mingling  storm,  demand  their  Sire, 
With  tears  of  artless  Innocence.     Alas  ! 
Nor  Wife,  nor  Children,  more  shall  he  behold, 
Nor  friends,  nor  sacred  home.     On  every  nerve 
The  deadly  Winter  seizes;  shuts  up  Sense, 
And,  o'er  his  inmost  Vitals  creeping  cold, 
Lays  him  along  the  Snows,  a  stiffen'd  corse, 
Stretch'd  out,  and  bleaching  in  the  northern  Blast. 

Storytelling.  —  Swift. 

gTORY-TELLING  is  subject  to  two  unavoidable  Defects ;  frequent 
repetition  and  being  soon  exhausted ;   so  that  whoever  values 
this  gift  in  himself,  has  need  of  a  good  Memory,  and  ought  frequently 
to  shift  his  Company. 

bribing.  —  Coiton. 

PTE  that  strives  for  the  mastery,  must  join  a  well  disciplined  body 
to  a  well  regulated  mind;  for  with  mind  and  body,  as  with 
Man  and  Wife,  it  often  happens  that  the  stronger  vessel  is  ruled  by 
the  wTeaker,  although  in  moral,  as  in  domestic  Economy,  matters  are 
best  conducted  where  neither  party  is  unreasonable,  and  where  both 
are  agreed. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD  487 

Shrift.  —  From  the  Latin. 
We  hate  the  Hawk  because  he  always  lives  in  arms. 

StUtJg.  —  Shakspeare. 
C1TUDY  is  like  the  Heaven's  glorious  sun, 

That  will  not  be  deep  search'd  with  saucy  looks : 
Small  have  continual  plodders  ever  won, 
Save  base  Authority  from  others'  books. 

StUtlg.  —  Shakspeare. 

Continue  your  resolve 
To  suck  the  sweets  of  sweet  Philosophy. 
Only,  while  we  do  admire 
This  Virtue,  and  this  moral  discipline, 
Let's  be  no  stoics,  nor  no  stocks,  I  pray, 
Or  so  devote  to  Aristotle's  checks, 
As  Ovid  be  an  outcast  quite  abjured : 
Talk  logic  with  acquaintance  that  you  have, 
And  practise  rhetoric  in  your  common  talk ; 
Music  and  Poesy  use  to  quicken  you; 
The  mathematics,  and  the  metaphysics, 
Fall  to  them,  as  you  find  your  stomach  serves  you : 
No.  profit  grows,  where  is  no  pleasure  ta'en ; — 
In  brief,  Study  what  you  most  affect. 

StUtij).  —  Shakspeare. 
TJNIVERSAL  plodding  prisons  up 

The  nimble  spirits  in  the  arteries; 
As  motion,  and  long-during  action,  tires 
The  sinewy  Vigour  of  the  Traveller. 

CJtUty).—  St.  Evremond. 
QTUDY  has  something  cloudy  and  melancholy  in  it,  which  spoils 
that  natural  Cheerfulness,  and  deprives  a  man  of  that  readiness 
of  wit,  and  freedom  of  fancy,  which  are  required  toward  a  polite 
Conversation.  Meditation  has  still  worse  effects  in  civil  society ; 
wherefore  let  me  advise  you  to  take  care,  that  you  lose  not  by  it 
with  your  Friends  what  you  think  to  gain  with  yourself. 

StUtjp.—  Seneca. 
FF  you  devote  your  time  to  Study,  you  will  avoid  all  the  irksome- 
ness  of  this  Life,  nor  will  you  long  for  the  approach  of  Night, 
being  tired  of  the  Day ;  nor  will  you  be  a  burden  to  yourself,  nor 
your  Society  insupportable  to  others. 

Stgle.—  Feltham. 
J^  SENTENCE  well  couched,  takes  both  the  Sense  and  the  Un- 
derstanding. 

2R 


438  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Stpie.  —  Swift. 
"PROPER  words  in  proper  places  make  the  true  definition  of  a 
X     Style. 

Stgle.  —  From  the  Latin. 
TTIS  Style  shows  the  man.     Whether  in  speaking  or  writing,  a 
gentleman  is  always  known  by  his  style. 

political  Suuserbtencg.—  CaUwun. 

"UIRACY,  robbery,  and  violence  of  every  description  may,  as  his- 
tory proves,  be  followed  by  virtue,  patriotism,  and  national 
greatness ;  but  where  is  the  example  to  be  found  of  a  degenerate, 
corrupt,  and  subservient  people,  who  have  ever  recovered  their 
virtue  and  patriotism  ?  Their  doom  has  ever  been  the  lowest  state 
of  wretchedness  and  misery  :  scorned,  trodden  down,  and  obliterated 
for  ever  from  the  list  of  nations.  May  heaven  graut  that  such  may 
never  be  our  doom ! 

i&UCCe00.  —  Higgons. 
TTAD  I  miscarried,  I  had  been  a  Villain ; 

For  men  judge  actions  always  by  events : 
But  when  we  manage  by  a  just  foresight, 
Success  is  Prudence,  and  Possession  Right. 

SUCCCS0.  —  Thomson. 
TT  is  Success  that  colours  all  in  life : 

Success  makes  Fools  admired,  makes  Villains  honest : 
All  the  proud  Virtue  of  this  vaunting  world 
Fawns  on  Success,  and  Power,  howe'er  acquired. 

SUCCeSS.  —  Cotton. 
TTE  that  has  never  known  Adversity,  is  but  half  acquainted  with 
others,  or  with  himself.  Constant  success  shows  us  but  one 
side  of  the  world.  For,  as  it  surrounds  us  with  Friends,  who  will 
tell  us  only  our  merits,  so  it  silences  those  Enemies  from  whom 
alone  we  can  learn  our  defects. 

SUCCeSS.  —  Shakspeare. 
'THE  great  man  down,  you  mark,  his  favourite  flies; 

The  poor  advanced  makes  Friends  of  enemies. 
And  hitherto  doth  Love  on  fortune  tend  : 
For  who  not  needs,  shall  never  lack  a  Friend ; 
And  who  in  want  a  hollow  Friend  doth  try, 
Directly  seasons  him  his  Enemy. 

SutCfoe.-r  Lucretius. 

OH  !  deaf  to  Nature,  and  to  Heaven's  command  ! 

Against  thyself  to  lift  the  murdering  hand  ! 
0  damn'd  Despair ! — to  shun  the  living  light, 
And  plunge  thy  guilty  Soul  in  endless  Night ! 


OR,  THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  489 

guitibe.  — Blair. 
r^UR  time  is  fix'd  j  and  all  our  days  are  number'd ; 

How  long,  how  short,  we  know  not :  this  we  know, 
Duty  requires  we  calmly  wait  the  summons, 
Nor  dare  to  stir  till  Heaven  shall  give  permission. 
Like  sentries  that  must  keep  their  destined  stand, 
And  wait  th'  appointed  hour,  till  they're  relieved 
Those  only  are  the  Brave  who  keep  their  ground, 
And  keep  it  to  the  last.     To  run  away 
Is  but  a  Coward's  trick :  to  run  away 
From  this  World's  ills,  that  at  the  very  worst 
Will  soon  blow  o'er,  thinking  to  mend  ourselves 
By  boldly  vent'ring  on  a  World  unknown, 
And  plunging  headlong  in  the  dark  !  'tis  mad : 
No  Frenzy  half  so  desperate  as  this. 

SutCtUe,  —  Shakspeare. 

Against  Self-Slaughter 
There  is  a  prohibition  so  divine, 
That  cravens  my  weak  hand. 

ffltUtal  SutCttie.  —  Chesterfield. 
T  LOOK  upon  indolence  as  a  sort  of  Suicide ;  for  the  Man  is  effi- 
ciently destroyed,  though  the  appetite  of  the  Brute  may  survive. 

Summer.  —  Moore. 
'HTWAS  noon;  and  every  Orange-bud 

Hung  languid  o'er  the  crystal  flood, 
Faint  as  the  lids  of  maiden  eyes 
Beneath  a  Lover's  burning  sighs  ! 

Cf)*  SUTl.  —  Moore. 

A  ND  see  the  Sun  himself !  on  wings 

Of  Glory  up  the  East  he  springs. 
Angel  of  Light !  who  from  the  time 
Those  Heavens  began  their  march  sublime, 
Hath  first  of  all  the  starry  choir 
Trod  in  his  Maker's  steps  of  Fire  ! 

Cf)e  Suit.  —  Cowley. 
'THOU  tide  of  Glory,  which  no  rest  doth  know, 

But  ever  ebb  and  ever  flow  ! 
Thou  golden  shower  of  a  true  Jove  ! 
Who  doth  in  thee  descend,  and  Heaven  to  Earth  make  love  i 

Cf)e  Sun.  —  Byron. 
Would  that  yon  orb,  whose  matin  glow 
Thy  listless  Eyes  so  much  admire, 
Did  lend  thee  something  of  his  Fire  ! 


490  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Cf)e  ShKXl.  — Byron. 

Thou  material  God  ! 
And  representative  of  the  Unknown — 
Who  chose  thee  for  his  shadow  !     Thou  chief  star  ! 
Centre  of  many  stars  !  which  makest  our  Earth 
Endurable,  and  temperest  the  hues 
And  Hearts  of  all  who  walk  within  thy  rays ! 
Sire  of  the  seasons  !     Monarch  of  the  climes, 
And  those  who  dwell  in  them  !  for  near  or  far, 
Our  inborn  Spirits  have  a  tint  of  thee, 
Even  as  our  outward  aspects ; — thou  dost  rise, 
And  shine  and  set  in  Glory.     Fare  thee  well ! 
I  ne'er  shall  see  thee  more.     As  my  first  glance 
Of  Love  and  Wonder  was  for  thee,  then  take 
My  latest  look. 

Cf)e  i&tttt-  —  Southey. 
J  MARVEL  not,  0  Sun  !  that  unto  thee 
In  adoration  Man  should  bow  the  knee, 
And  pour  the  prayer  of  mingled  Awe  and  Love; 
For  like  a  God  thou  art,  and  on  thy  way 
Of  Glory  sheddcst  with  benignant  ray, 

Beauty,  and  Life,  and  Joyance  from  above. 

2H)e  Sun.  —  Cowley. 

A  LL  the  World's  bravery  that  delights  our  eyes, 
Is  but  thy  several  liveries ; 
Thou  the  rich  dye  on  them  bestow'st, 
Thy  nimble  Pencil  paints  this  landscape  as  thou  go'st 

Superiority  _  Helvetius. 
'TO  be  loved  we  should  merit  but  little  Esteem  ;  all  Superiority 
attracts  awe  and  aversion. 

Superstition.—  Coiton. 

HPHE  less  we  know  as  to  things  that  can  be  done,  the  less  skep- 
tical are  we  as  to  things  that  cannot.  Hence  it  is  that  Sailors 
and  Gamblers,  though  not  over  remarkable  for  their  devotion,  are 
even  proverbial  for  their  Superstition ;  the  solution  of  this  phe- 
nomenon is,  that  both  these  descriptions  of  men  have  so  much  to 
do  with  things  beyond  all  possibility  of  being  reduced  either  to 
rule,  or  to  reason, — the  Winds  and  the  Waves, — and  the  decisions 
of  the  Dice-Box. 

IStinQ  Sutetg.  —  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
TF  any  desire  thee  to  be  his  Surety,  give  him  a  part  of  what  thou 
hast  to  spare;  if  he  press  thee  farther,  he  is  not  thy  Friend  at 
all,  for  Friendship  rather  chooseth  harm  to  itself,  than  offereth  it. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  491 

If  thou  be  bound  for  a  stranger,  thou  art  a  fool;  if  for  a  merchant, 
thou  puttest  thy  estate  to  learn  to  swim;  if  for  a  churchman,  he 
hath  no  inheritance ;  if  for  a  Lawyer,  he  will  find  an  evasion 
by  a  syllable  or  word  to  abuse  thee;  if  for  a  poor  man,  thou  must 
pay  it  thyself;  if  for  a  rich  man,  he  needs  not:  therefore  from 
Suretyship,  as  from  a  manslayer  or  enchanter,  bless  thyself;  for 
the  best  profit  and  return  will  be  this — that  if  thou  force  him  for 
whom  thou  art  bound,  to  pay  it  himself,  he  will  become  thy  Enemy ; 
if  thou  use  to  pay  it  thyself,  thou  wilt  become  a  Beggar 

Suspicion.  —  Spenser. 
TTE  lowrd  on  her  with  daungerous  eye-glaunce, 

Shewing  his  Nature  in  his  countenaunce ; 
His  rolling  Eies  did  never  rest  in  place, 

But  walkte  each  where  for  feare  of  hid  mischaunce, 
Holding  a  lattis  still  before  his  Face, 
Through  which  he  still  did  peep  as  forward  he  did  pace. 

Stoearing.  —Hierocies. 

"PROM  a  common  custom  of  Swearing,  men  easily  slide   into 
Perjury;  therefore  if  thou  wouldst  not  be  perjured,  do  not  use 
to  swear. 

WtyZ  SBCOpfjant  —  SkaJcspeare. 
~Y"OU  are  meek  and  humble-mouth'd; 

You  sign  your  place  and  calling,  in  full  seeming, 
With  Meekness  and  Humility  :  but  your  Heart 
Is  cramm'd  with  Arrogancy,  Spleen,  and  Pride. 
You  have,  by  fortune, 

Gone  slightly  o'er  low  steps;  and  now  are  mounted, 
Where  powers  are  your  retainers  :  and  your  words, 
Domestics  to  you,  serve  your  will,  as't  please 
Yourself  pronounce  their  office. 

SptpatJS. —-Byron. 
T1THAT  gem  hath  dropp'd  and  sparkles  o'er  his  chain  ? 

The  Tear  most  sacred,  shed  for  others'  pain, 
That  starts  at  once — bright — pure — from  Pity's  mine, 
Already  polish'd  by  the  Hand  Divine. 

i&guipatfjg.  —Darwin. 
]V"0  radiant  pearl,  which  crested  Fortune  wears, 

No  gem,  that  twinkling  hangs  from  Beauty's  ears; 
Not  the  bright  stars,  which  Night's  blue  arch  adorn; 
Nor  rising  Sun,  that  gilds  the  vernal  Morn; 
Shine  with  such  lustre  as  the  Tear  that  flows 
Down  Virtue's  manly  cheek  for  others'  Woes. 
2r2 


492  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Sgropatf)!).  —  Thomson. 

The  generous  Heart 
Should  scorn  a  Pleasure  which  gives  others  Pain. 

SbmWtyV'—Dryden. 

"^ATURE  has  cast  me  in  so  soft  a  mould, 

That  but  to  hear  a  story  feign' d  for  Pleasure, 
Of  some  sad  Lover's  death,  moistens  my  Eyes, 
And  robs  me  of  my  Manhood. 

Sgmpatfjg-  _  Virgil. 
P^"OT  being  untutored  in  Suffering,  I  learn  to  pity  those  in  Af- 
fliction 

SlOTatflg.—  Steele. 

'THERE  is  a  kind  of  Sympathy  in  Souls,  that  fits  them  for  each 
other ;  and  we  may  be  assured  when  we  see  two  persons 
engaged  in  the  warmths  of  a  mutual  Affection,  that  there  are 
certain  qualities  in  both  their  minds  which  bear  a  resemblance  to 
one  another.  A  generous  and  constant  passion  in  an  agreeable 
Lover,  where  there  is  not  too  great  a  disparity  in  other  circum- 
stances, is  the  greatest  Blessing  that  can  befall  the  person  beloved, 
and  if  overlooked  in  one,  may  perhaps  never  be  found  in  another. 

Sgtttpattlg.  —  Sterne. 
TN  benevolent  natures  the  impulse  to  Pity  is  so  sudden,  that  like 
instruments  of  Music  which  obey  the  touch — the  objects  which 
are  fitted  to  excite  such  impressions  work  so  instantaneous  an 
effect,  that  you  would  think  the  Will  was  scarce  concerned,  and 
that  the  Mind  was  altogether  passive  in  the  Sympathy  which  her 
own  goodness  has  excited. 

SgWpatfjg,  —  Shakspeare. 
ONE  touch  of  Nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin — 

That  all,  with  one  consent,  praise  new-born  gawds, 
Though  they  are  made  and  moulded  of  things  past; 
And  give  to  Dust,  that  is  a  little  gilt, 
More  laud  than  gilt  o'er-dusted. 

Jkptpatjg.  —  Jean  Paul 
'THERE  are  Eyes  which  need  only  to  look  up,  to  touch  every 
chord  of  a  breast  choked  by  the  stifling  atmosphere  of  stiff  and 
stagnant  Society,  and  to  call  forth  tones  which  might  become  the 
accompanying  music  of  a  Life.  This  gentle  transfusion  of  Mind 
into  Mind  is  the  secret  of  Sympathy.  It  is  never  understood,  but 
ever  felt ;  and  where  it  is  allowed  to  exert  its  power,  it  fills  and 
extends  intellectual  Life  far  beyond  the  measure  of  ordinary  con- 
ception. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND   OLD.  495 

iE-PmpatJ)!)-  —  Horace. 
rrHE  Human  Countenance  smiles  on  those  who  smile,  and  weeps 
with  those  who  weep. 

Cfje  icgrtn,  —  Thomson. 
"YTTHEN  on  his  heart  the  torrent-softness  pours, 

Then  Wisdom  prostrate  lies,  and  fading  fame 
Dissolves  in  air  away;  while  the  fond  soul, 
Wrapt  in  gay  visions  of  unreal  Bliss, 
Still  paints  the  illusive  form  ;  the  kindling  grace; 
The  enticing  Smile ;  the  modest-seeming  eye, 
Beneath  whose  beauteous  beams,  belying  Heaven, 
Lurk  searchless-cunning,  Cruelty,  and  Death, 
And  still,  false  warbling  in  his  cheated  ear, 
Her  syren  voice,  enchanting,  draws  him  on 
To  guileful  shores,  and  meads  of  fatal  Joy. 

CaCt.  —  Anon. 
A    LITTLE  Management  may  often   evade  Resistance,  which  a 
vast  force  might  vainly  strive  to  overcome. 

CaCt.  —  Colton. 
"MEVER  join  with  your  Friend  when  he  abuses  his  Horse  or  his 
Wife,  unless  the  one  is  about  to  be  sold,  and  the  other  to  be 
buried. 

CaCt.  _  Colton. 
/TJ.RAXT  graciously  what  you  cannot  refuse  safely,  and  conciliate 
those  you  cannot  conquer. 

Calent.  —  Colton. 

"\ TEN  may  have  the  gifts  both  of  Talent  and  of  Wit,  but  unless 
they  have  also  Prudence  and  Judgment  to  dictate  the  when, 
the  where,  and  the  how  those  gifts  are  to  be  exerted,  the  possessors 
of  them  will  be  doomed  to  conquer  only  where  nothing  is  to  be 
gained,  but  to  be  defeated  where  every  thing  is  to  be  lost ;  they 
will  be  outdone  by  men  of  less  brilliant,  but  more  convertible 
Qualifications,  and  whose  strength,  in  one  point,  is  not  counter- 
balanced by  any  disproportion  in  another. 

Zd  If  M.  — Colton. 
J)ISAPPOIXTED  men,  who  think  that  they  have  Talents,  and 
who  hint  that  their  Talents  have  not  been  properly  rewarded, 
usually  finish  their  career  by  writing  their  own  History;  but  in 
detailing  their  Misfortunes,  they  only  let  us  into  the  secret  of  their 
Mistakes;  and,  in  accusing  their  patrons  of  Blindness,  make  it 
appear  that  they  ought  rather  to  have  accused  them  of  Sagacity, 
since  it  would  seem  that  they  saw  too  much,  rather  than  too  little ; 
namely,  that  second-rate  performances  were  too  often  made  the 
foundation  for  first-rate  pretensions. 


494  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

&U53tOCraCg  Of  Caleitt.  —  Thomson. 

Whoe'er  amidst  the  sons 
Of  Reason,  Valour,  Liberty,  and  Virtue, 
Displays  distinguish'd  Merit,  is  a  Noble 
Of  Nature's  own  creating.     Such  have  risen, 
Sprung  from  the  dust ;  or  where  had  been  our  honours  ? 

Uatettt  Calettt  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
TT  seems  that  Nature  has  concealed  at  the  bottom  of  our  minds 
Talents  and  Abilities  of  which  we  are  not  aware.  The  Passions 
alone  have  the  privilege  of  bringing  them  to  light,  and  of  giving 
us  sometimes  views  more  certain  and  more  perfect  than  Art  could 
possibly  produce. 

2Talfcm0.  —  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
CPEAKING  much  is  a  sign  of  Vanity  j  for  he  that  is  lavish  in 
Words,  is  a  Niggard  in  Deed. 

Calfemg.  —  Cowper. 

"Y\TORDS  learn'd  by  rote,  a  Parrot  may  rehearse, 

But  talking  is  not  always  to  converse ; 
Not  more  distinct  from  Harmony  divine, 
The  constant  creaking  of  a  Country  Sign. 

Catftmg*  —  Young. 
A   DEARTH  of  words  a  woman  need  not  fear ; 

But  'tis  a  task  indeed  to  learn — to  hear. 
In  that  the  skill  of  Conversation  lies ) 
That  shows  or  makes  you  both  polite  and  wise. 

Calfttng,—  Byron. 
"RUT  light  and  airy,  stood  on  the  alert, 

And  shone  in  the  best  part  of  Dialogue. 
By  humouring  always  what  they  might  assert, 

And  listening  to  the  topics  most  in  vogue ; 
Now  grave,  now  gay,  but  never  dull  or  pert ; 

And  smiling  but  in  secret — cunning  rogue  ! 
He  ne'er  presumed  to  make  an  Error  clearer, — 
In  short,  there  never  was  a  better  Hearer. 

Caifctttg,  —  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
XTE  that  cannot  refrain  from  much  speaking,  is  like  a  City  without 
Walls,  and  less  pains  in  the  world  a  man  cannot  take,  than  to 
hold  his  tongue  :  therefore  if  thou  observest  this  rule  in  all  assem- 
blies, thou  shalt  seldom  err:  restrain  thy  Choler,  hearken  much, 
and  speak  little ;  for  the  Tongue  is  the  instrument  of  the  greatest 
Good  and  greatest  Evil  that  is  done  in  the  world. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD.  495 


Calking.  —Socrates. 
QUCH  as  thy  Words  are,  such  will  thy  Affections  be  esteemed ; 
and  such  will  thy  Deeds  as  thy  Affections,  and  such  thy  Life 
as  thy  Deeds. 

Calking.  —  Young. 
"VALINE  may  indeed  excite  the  meekest  Dame ; 

But  keen  Xantippe,  scorning  borrow'd  flame, 
Can  vent  her  thunders,  and  her  lightnings  play, 
O'er  cooling  Gruel,  and  composing  Tea. 

Calktng.  —  Roscommon. 
What  you  keep  by  you,  you  may  change  and  mend; 
But  Words  once  spoken  can  never  be  recall'd. 

QLalkiUQ.  —  Lavater. 
TTE  who  seldom  speaks,  and  with  one  calm  well-timed  word  can 
strike  dumb  the  Loquacious,  is  a  Genius  or  a  Hero. 

Calking.  —  Shaftesbunj. 
'THEY  who  are  great  Talkers  in  company,  have  never  been  any 
Talkers  by  themselves,  nor  used  to  private  discussions  of  our 
home  Regimen. 

Calfetng.  —  Sir  Roger  V Estrange. 
'THERE  are  braying  Men  in  the  World  as  well  as  braying  Asses ; 
for,  what's  loud  and  senseless  Talking  and  Swearing,  any  other 
than  Braying. 

Calking.  —  From  the  French. 
A    WISE  Man  reflects  before  he  speaks ;  a  Fool  speaks,  and  then 
reflects  on  what  he  has  uttered. 

Calking.  —  Seiden. 

T^TORDS  must  be  fitted  to  a  Man's  mouth  :  'twas  well  said  of 
the  fellow  that  was  to  make  a  speech  for  my  Lord  Mayor, 
when  he  desired  to  take  Measure  of  his  Lordship's  Mouth. 

Caifcmg.— Plutarch. 

TF  you  light  upon  an  impertinent  Talker,  that  sticks  to  you  like 

a  Bur,  to  the  disappointment  of  your  important  occasions,  deal 

freely  with  him,  break  off  the  Discourse,  and  pursue  your  Business. 

Calking.  —  Montesquieu. 
'"THOSE  who  have  few  affairs  to  attend  to,  are  great  Speakers. 
The  less  Men  think,  the  more  they  talk. 

Calking.  —  Terence. 
TE  who  indulges  in  Liberty  of  Speech,  will  hear  things  in  return 
which  he  will  not  like. 


406  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

QLalkinQ.  —  Coiton. 

TT  has  been  well  observed,  that  the  Tongue  discovers  the  state  of 
the  mind,  no  less  than  that  of  the  body  ;  but,  in  either  case, 
before  the  Philosopher  or  the  Physician  can  judge,  the  patient 
must  open  his  mouth.  Some  men  envelop  themselves  in  such  an 
impenetrable  cloak  of  Silence,  that  the  Tongue  will  afford  us  no 
symptoms  of  the  temperament  of  the  mind.  Such  Taciturnity, 
indeed,  is  wise  if  they  are  fools,  but  foolish  if  they  are  wise ;  and 
the  only  method  to  form  a  Judgment  of  these  mutes,  is  narrowly 
to  observe  when,  where,  and  how  they  smile. 

Calfemg,  —  Plutarch. 
TF  any  man  think  it -a  small  matter,  or  of  mean  concernment,  to 
bridle  his  Tongue,  he  is  much  mistaken ;  for  it  is  a  point  to  be 
silent,  when  occasion  requires ;  and  better  than  to  speak,  though 
never  so  well. 

Calfemg.  —  Socrates. 
'THE  Tongue  of  a  fool  is  the  key  of  his  Counsel,  which,  in  a  Wise 
Man,  Wisdom  hath  in  keeping. 

CaSte,  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
Men  more  easily  renounce  their  Interests  than  their  Tastes. 

QimtZ.— Burke. 
TT  is  for  the  most  part  in  our  skill  in  Manners,  and  in  the  obser- 
vances of  time  and  place  and  of  Decency  in  general,  that  what 
is  called  Taste  by  way  of  distinction  consists ;  and  which  is  in 
reality  no  other  than  a  more  refined  Judgment.  *  *  *  The  cause 
of  a  wrong  Taste  is  a  defect  of  Judgment. 

Ca0te.  —  La  Bruyere. 
'TALENT,  Taste,  Wit,  G-ood  Sense,  are  very  different  things, 
but  by  no  means  incompatible.  Between  Good  Sense  and 
Good  Taste  there  exists  the  same  difference  as  between  Cause  and 
Effect,  and  between  Wit  and  Talent  there  is  the  same  proportion 
as  between  a  whole  and  its  part. 

Cagte.  —  Greville. 
1VTAY  not  Taste  be  compared  to  that  exquisite  sense  of  the  Bee. 
which  instantly  discovers  and  extracts  the  Quintessence  of 
every  Flower,  and  disregards  all  the  rest  of  it  ? 

CaSte.  —  Shenstone. 
FT  seems  with  Wit  and  Good-nature,  "Utrum  horum  mavis  ac- 
cipe."     Taste  and  Good-nature  are  universally  connected. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  497 

QiaXatWn.  —  Shakspeare. 
T\TE  must  not  rend  our  Subjects  from  our  laws, 

And  stick  them  in  our  will.     Sixth  part  of  each  ! 
A  trembling  Contribution  ! — why,  we  take 
From  every  tree,  lop,  bark,  and  part  o'  the  timber; 
And  though  we  leave  it  with  a  Root,  thus  hack'd, 
The  Air  will  drink  the  Sap. 

IBiUtt  CaXattOn.  —  Shakspeare. 

These  exactions 
Most  pestilent  to  th'  Hearing  j  and,  to  bear  'era, 
The  back  is  sacrifice  to  th'  load  :  This  makes  bold  mouths : 
Tongues  spit  their  Duties  out,  and  cold  Hearts  freeze 
Allegiance  in  them  ;  All  their. curses  now 
Live  where  their  Prayers  did ;  and  it's  come  to  pass, 
That  tractable  Obedience  is  a  slave 
To  each  incensed  will. 

Direct  CaxattOlT.  —  Shakspeare. 
TT  doth  appear :  for,  upon  these  Taxations, 

The  clothiers  all,  not  able  to  maintain 
The  many  to  them  'longing,  have  put  off 
The  spinsters,  carders,  fullers,  weavers,  who, 
Unfit  for  other  Life,  compell'd  by  hunger, 
And  lack  of  other  means,  in  desperate  manner 
Daring  the  event  to  the  Teeth,  are  all  in  uproar, 
And  Danger  serves  among  them. 

Cempet.  —  Shakspeare. 
'THAT  which  combined  us  was  most  great,  and  let  not 

A  leaner  Action  rend  us.     What's  amiss, 
May  it  be  gently  heard :  When  we  debate 
Our  trivial  difference  loud,  we  do  commit 
Murder  in  healing  Wounds  :  Then, 
Touch  you  the  sourest  points  with  sweetest  terms, 
Nor  curstness  grow  to  the  matter. 

Cetltpei;.  —  Shakspeare. 
TITHY  should  a  Man,  whose  Blood  is  warm  within, 

Sit  like  his  Grandsire  cut  in  Alabaster  ? 
Sleep,  when  he  wakes?  and  creep  into  the  jaundice 
By  being  peevish  ? 

Cempetance Burton. 

'J'EMPERANCE  is  a  bridle  of  gold :  he  who  uses  it  rightly,  is 
more  like  a  God  than  a  Man  j  the  English,  who  are  the  most 
subject,  of  all  other  people,  to  Melancholy,  are,  in  general,  excel- 
lent feeders. 

32 


498  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 

Cempcranc  c.  —  Hesiod. 

JTOOLS  !  not  to  know  how  far  a  humble  lot 

Exceeds  abundance  by  Injustice  got; 
How  Health  and  Temperance  bless  the  rustic  swain, 
While  Luxury  destroys  her  pamper' d  train. 

Cempecancc.  —  ciaudian. 

J^JEN  live  best  on  moderate   means:    Nature  has  dispensed   to 
all  men  wherewithal  to  be  happy,  if  Mankind  did  but  under- 
stand how  to  use  her  gifts. 

{[Temperance.  —  Fuller. 

l^T  ODE  RATION  is  the  silken  string  running  through  the  pearl- 
chain  of  all  Virtues. 

temperance.  —  Socrates. 
rrHERE  is  no  difference  between  Knowledge  and  Temperance; 
for  he  who  knows  what  is  good  and  embraces  it,  who  knows 
what  is  bad  and  avoids  it,  is  learned  and  temperate.  But  they 
who  know  very  well  what  ought  to  be  done,  and  yet  do  quite 
otherwise,  are  ignorant  and  stupid. 

Cempetance.—  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
T7XCEPT  thou  desire  to  hasten  thine  end,  take  this  for  a  general 
rule,  that  thou  never  add  any  artificial  Heat  to  thy  body  by 
Wine  or  Spice,  until  thou  find  that  time  hath  decayed  thy  natural 
heat;  and  the  sooner  thou  beginnest  to  help  Nature,  the  sooner 
she  will  forsake  thee,  and  leave  thee  to  trust  altogether  to  Art. 

Cfje  CempcSt.—  Campbell. 
TTE  comes !  dread  Brama  shakes  the  sunless  sky 

With  murmuring  Wrath,  and  thunders  from  on  high  ! 
Heaven's  fiery  Horse,  beneath  his  warrior  form, 
Paws  the  light  clouds,  and  gallops  on  the  Storm  ! 
Wide  waves  his  flickering  Sword ;   his  bright  arms  glow 
Like  Summer  Suns,  and  light  the  World  below  ! 
Earth,  and  her  trembling  isles  in  Ocean's  bed, 
Are  shook ;  and  Nature  rocks  beneath  his  tread  ! 

2Tf)e  CempeSt.  —  Byron. 

'THE  sky  is  changed  ! — and  such  a  change  !     0  Night, 
And  Storm,  and  Darkness,  ye  are  wondrous  strong, 

Yet  lovely  in  your  strength,  as  is  the  light 
Of  a  dark  eye  in  Woman  !     Far  along, 
From  peak  to  peak,  the  rattling  crags  among 

Leaps  the  live  Thunder !     Not  from  one  lone  cloud, 
But  every  mountain  now  hath  found  a  tongue, 

And  Jura  answers,  through  her  misty  shroud, 

Back  to  the  joyous  Alps,  who  call  to  her  aloud ! 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  499 

And  this  is  in  the  night : — Most  glorious  Night ! 

Thou  wert  not  sent  for  slumber  !  let  me  be 
A  sharer  in  thy  fierce  and  far  Delight, — 

A  portion  of  the  Tempest  and  of  thee  ! 

How  the  lit  lake  shines,  a  phosphoric  sea, 
And  the  big  rain  comes  dancing  to  the  earth  ! 

And  now  again  'tis  black, — and  now,  the  glee 
Of  Jthe  loud  Hills  shakes  with  its  mountain-mirth, 
As  if  they  did  rejoice  o'er  a  young  Earthquake's  birth. 

Cf)e  CempeSt.—  Byron. 
TTARK,  hark  !  deep  sounds,  and  deeper  still, 
Are  howling  from  the  Mountain's  bosom  : 
There's  not  a  breath  of  Wind  upon  the  Hill, 

Yet  quivers  every  Leaf,  and  drops  each  Blossom : 
Earth  groans  as  if  beneath  a  heavy  Load. 

Ci)e  CempeSt.  —  Spenser. 
gUDDEINE  they  see  from  midst  of  all  the  maine 

The  surging  waters  like  a  Mountaine  rise, 
And  the  great  Sea,  puft  up  with  proud  Disdaine, 
To  swell  above  the  measure  of  his  guise, 
As  threatning  to  devoure  all  that  his  Powre  despise. 

&f)e  CempcSt.—  Joanna  Baillie. 
'THE  Night  grows  wondrous  dark  :  deep-swelling  gusts 

And  sultry  stillness  take  the  rule  by  turn, 
Whilst  o'er  our  heads  the  black  and  heavy  Clouds 
Roll  slowly  on.     This  surely  bodes  a  Storm. 

Wqz  Cempest.  —  Milton. 

I  heard  the  wrack 
As  Earth  and  Sky  would  mingle ;  but  myself 
Was  distant;  and  these  flaws,  though  Mortals  fear  them 
As  dang'rous  to  the  pillar'd  frame  of  Heaven, 
Or  to  the  Earth's  dark  basis  underneath, 
Are  to  the  main  as  inconsiderable, 
And  harmless,  if  not  wholesome,  as  a  sneeze 
To  Man. 

CempeSt  at  £ea.—  Thomson. 
THEN  issues  forth  the  Storm  with  sudden  burst, 

And  hurls  the  whole  precipitated  air 
Down,  in  a  torrent.     On  the  passive  main 
Descends  the  Ethereal  force,  and  with  strong  gust 
Turns  from  its  bottom  the  discolour'd  deep. 
Thro'  the  black  Night  that  sits  immense  around, 
Lash'd  into  foam,  the  fierce  contending  brine, 
Seems  o'er  a  thousand  raging  Waves  to  burn. 

2S 


500  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

^Temptation.  —  Spenser. 

TYUT  all  in  vaine  :  no  Fort  can  be  so  strong, 
Ne  fleshly  Brest  can  armed  be  so  sownd, 

But  will  at  last  be  wonne  with  battrie  long, 
Or  unawares  at  disadvantage  fownd  : 
Nothing  is  sure  that  growes  on  earthly  grownd  : 

And  who  most  trustes  in  Arme  of  fleshly  might, 
And  boastes  in  Beautie's  chaine  not  to  be  bownd, 

Doth  soonest  fall  in  disaventrous  fight, 

And  yeeldes  his  captive  neck  to  Victour's  most  despight. 

Cemptattcm.  —  Shakspeare. 

/   'Tis  one  thing  to  be  tempted, 
Another  thing  to  fall.^ 

CemptattOn.  —  Thomson. 

Ah  then,  ye  Fair  ! 
Be  greatly  cautious  of  your  sliding  Hearts  : 
Dare  not  the  infectious  Sigh ;  the  pleading  look, 
Downcast,  and  low,  in  meek  submission  drest, 
But  full  of  Guile.     Let  not  the  serpent  Tongue, 
Prompt  to  deceive,  with  adulation  smooth, 
Gain  on  your  purposed  will.     Nor  in  the  bower, 
Where  woodbines  flaunt,  and  roses  shed  a  couch, 
While  Evening  draws  her  crimson  curtains  round, 
Trust  your  soft  minutes  with  betraying  Man. 

Cemptatton.—  Pope. 

HTHE  devil  was  piqued  such  Saintship  to  behold, 

And  long'd  to  tempt  him,  like  good  Job  of  old ; 
But  Satan  now  is  wiser  than  of  yore, 
And  tempts  by  making  rich,  not  making  poor. 

^Temptation.  —Johnson. 
HTO  resist  Temptation  once  is  not  a  sufficient  proof  of  Honesty. 
If  a  servant,  indeed,  were  to  resist  the  continued  temptation  of 
Silver  lying  in  a  window,  as  some  people  let  it  lie,  when  he  is  sure 
his  master  does  not  know  how  much  there  is  of  it,  he  would  give 
a  strong  proof  of  Honesty.  But  this  is  a  proof  to  which  you  have 
no  right  to  put  a  man.  You  know,  humanly  speaking,  there  is  a 
certain  degree  of  Temptation  which  will  overcome  any  Virtue.  Now, 
in  so  far  as  you  approach  Temptation  to  a  man,  you  do  him  an  in- 
and,  if  he  is  overcome,  you  share  his  Guilt. 

^Temptation.  —  Shakspeare. 
Devils  soonest  tempt,  resembling  Spirits  of  Light. 

^Temptation.  —  From  the  Latin. 
Opportunity  makes  the  Thief. 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  50i 

CemptattOlT.  —  Shdkspeare. 
V  IE  in  the  lap  of  Sin,  and  not  mean  harm  ? 

It  is  hypocrisy  against  the  Devil : 
They  that  mean  virtuously,  and  yet  do  so, 
The  devil  their  Virtue  tempts,  and  they  tempt  Heaven. 

Cf)0Orp.  —  Shalspeare. 
Thoughts  are  but  Dreams  till  their  effects  be  tried. 

Cijmgs  of  tf)e  SKaorlfc.  —  Coiton. 

TT  would  be  most  lamentable  if  the  good  things  of  this  World 
were  rendered  either  more  valuable  or  more  lasting ;  for,  despi- 
cable as  they  already  are,  too  many  are  found  eager  to  purchase 
them,  even  at  the  price  of  their  Souls  ! 

^Tfjinfterg;.  —  Dugald  Stewart. 
'THERE  are  very  few  original  Thinkers  in  the  world,  or  ever  have 
been  ;  the  greatest  part  of  those  who  are  called  Philosophers, 
have  adopted  the  opinions  of  some  who  went  before  them 

Cfnnfttng.  —  Ocero. 

TITHATEVER  that  be,  which  thinks,  which  understands,  which 
wills,  which  acts,  it  is  something  celestial  and  Divine;  and, 
upon  that  account,  must  necessarily  be  eternal. 

QlilinbinQ.  —  Lavater. 
'THINKERS  are  scarce  as  Gold :  but  he,  whose  thoughts  embrace 
all  his  subject,  pursues  it  uninterrupted  and  fearless  of  conse- 
quences, is  a  Diamond  of  enormous  size. 

CJKlritmg.  —  Cotton. 

'THOSE  who  have  finished  by  making  all  others  think  with  them, 
have  usually  been  those  who  began  by  daring  to  think  with 
themselves. 

Cf)  tnftmg.—  Johnson. 
"V/TANKIND  have  a  great  aversion  to  intellectual  Labour;  but 
even  supposing  Knowledge  to  be  easily  attainable,  more  people 
would  be   content  to  be  ignorant  than  would   take  even  a  little 
trouble  to  acquire  it. 

Cfjttgt.— Byron. 

Till  taught  by  pain, 
Men  really  know  not  what  good  Water's  worth. 
If  you  had  been  in  Turkey  or  in  Spain, 

Or  with  a  famish'd  boat's-crew  had  your  berth, 
Or  in  the  Desert  heard  the  camel's  bell, 
You'd  wish  yourself  where  Truth  is — in  a  well. 


502  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

CJjOUgf)t0  atttl  £^Cltft0.  —  Hare. 
TT  is  much  easier  to  think  right  without  doing  right,  than  to  do 
right  without  thinking  right.  Just  Thoughts  may,  and  wofully 
often  do  fail  of  producing  just  Deeds;  but  just  Deeds  are  sure  to 
beget  just  Thoughts.  For  when  the  Heart  is  pure  and  straight, 
there  is  hardly  any  thing  which  can  mislead  the  Understanding  in 
matters  of  immediate  personal  concernment.  But  the  clearest  Un- 
derstanding can  do  little  in  purifying  an  impure  Heart,  the  strongest 
little  in  straightening  a  crooked  one.  You  cannot  reason  or  talk 
an  Augean  stable  into  cleanliness.  A  single  day's  work  would 
make  more  progress  in  such  a  task  than  a  Century's  words. 

f&XVUt.  —  Shakspeare. 
Merry  Larks  are  ploughman's  Clocks. 

^Ttnte.  —  Shakspeare. 
Time,  whose  million'd  accidents 
Creep  in  'twixt  Vows,  and  change  decrees  of  Kings, 
Tan  sacred  Beauty,  blunt  the  sharp'st  intents, 

Divert  strong  minds  to  the  course  of  altering  things. 

<JTtltte»  —  Shakspeare. 
Time.     I, — that  please  some,  try  all;  both  Joy  and  Terror, 
Of  Good  and  Bad ;  that  make,  and  unfold,  Error. 

^LiXttt*  —  Joanna  Baillie. 
Still  on  it  creeps, 
Each  little  moment  at  another's  heels, 
Till  Hours,  Days,  Years,  and  Ages  are  made  up 
Of  such  small  parts  as  these,  and  men  look  back, 
Worn  and  bewilder'd,  wond'ring  how  it  is. 
Thou  trav'llest  like  a  Ship  in  the  wide  ocean, 
Which  hath  no  bounding  shore  to  mark  its  progress. 

Ctttte,  —  Clarendon. 
TT  is  no  wonder  that  when  we  are  prodigal  of  nothing  else,  when 
we  are  over-thrifty  of  many  things  which  we  may  well  spare, 
we  are  very  prodigal  of  our  Time,  which  is  the  only  precious  Jewel 
of  which  we  cannot  be  too  thrifty,  because  we  look  upon  it  as 
nothing  worth,  and  that  makes  us  not  care  how  we  spend  it.  The 
Labouring  Man  and  the  Artificer  knows  what  every  hour  of  his 
time  is  worth,  what  it  will  yield  him,  and  parts  not  with  it,  but 
for  the  full  value  :  they  are  only  noblemen  and  gentlemen,  who 
should  know  best  how  to  use  it,  that  think  it  only  fit  to  be  cast 
away;  and  their  not  knowing  how  to  set  a  true  value  upon  this,  is 
the  true  cause  of  the  wrong  estimate  they  make  of  all  other  things. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AXD    OLD.  503 

Zimt.—Bj/ron. 
'THERE  is  a  Temple  in  ruin  stands, 

Fashion'd  by  long-forgotten  hands ; 
Two  or  three  Columns,  and  many  a  stone, 
Marble  and  Granite,  with  grass  o'ergrown  ! 
Out  upon  Time  !  it  will  leave  no  more 
Of  the  things  to  come  than  the  things  before ! 
Out  upon  Time  !  who  for  ever  will  leave 
But  enough  of  the  Past  for  the  Future  to  grieve 
O'er  that  which  hath  been,  and  o'er  that  which  must  be  : 
What  we  have  seen,  our  sons  shall  see ; 
Remnants  of  things  that  have  pass'd  away, 
Fragments  of  Stone,  rear'd  by  Creatures  of  Clay  ! 

Cime.—  Byron. 
AND  there  they  stand,  as  stands  a  lofty  Mind, 

Worn,  but  unstooping  to  the  baser  Crowd, 
All  tenantless,  save  to  the  crannying  Wind, 
Or  holding  dark  communion  with  the  Cloud. 

$Ttme.  —  Shakspeare. 

The  End  crowns  all ; 
And  that  old  common  arbitrator,  Time, 
Will  one  day  end  it. 

Ctme.  —  Colton. 
HTIME  is  the  most  subtle  yet  the  most  insatiable  of  Depredators, 
and  by  appearing  to  take  nothing,  is  permitted  to  take  all ; 
nor  can  it  be  satisfied,  until  it  has  stolen  the  World  from  us,  and 
us  from  the  World.  It  constantly  flies,  yet  overcomes  all  things 
by  flight ;  and  although  it  is  the  present  ally,  it  will  be  the  future 
conqueror  of  Death.  Time,  the  cradle  of  Hope,  but  the  grave  of 
Ambition,  is  the  stern  corrector  of  Fools,  but  the  salutary  coun- 
sellor of  the  Wise,  bringing  all  they  dread  to  the  one,  and  all  they 
desire  to  the  other ;  but  like  Cassandra,  it  warns  us  with  a  voice 
that  even  the  sagest  discredit  too  long,  and  the  silliest  believe  too 
late.  Wisdom  walks  before  it,  Opportunity  with  it,  and  Repentance 
behind  it ;  he  that  has  made  it  his  friend,  will  have  little  to  fear 
from  his  Enemies,  but  he  that  has  made  it  his  enemy,  will  have 
little  to  hope  from  his  Friends. 

3T  tltt  e .  —  Sh  a  k  spear  e. 
We  see  which  way  the  stream  of  Time  doth  run, 
And  are  enforced  from  our  most  quiet  sphere 
By  the  rough  torrent  of  Occasion. 
2s2 


504  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Cttne.  —  Cowper. 
Time  as  he  passes  us,  has  a  Dove's  wing, 
Unsoil'd  and  swift,  and  of  a  silken  sound. 

Ctttte.  _  Young. 
'THE  bell  strikes  one.     We  take  no  note  of  Time, 

But  from  its  loss.     To  give  it  then  a  tongue, 
Is  wise  in  man.     As  if  an  Angel  spoke, 
I  feel  the  solemn  sound.     If  heard  aright, 
It  is  the  knell  of  my  departed  hours  : 
Where  are  they  ?     With  the  Years  beyond  the  Flood 
It  is  the  signal  that  demands  dispatch : 
How  much  is  to  be  done  ! 

Ctttie*  —  Cicero. 
'TIME  destroys  the  speculations  of  Man,  but  it  confirms  the  judg 
ment  of  Nature. 

Cittie,  —  Shakspeare. 
Time  is  the  old  Justice,  that  examines  all  offenders. 

Ctme.—  Lavater. 
The  great  rule  of  moral  conduct  is,  next  to  God,  to  respect  Time 

Ctttte.  —  Shakspeare. 
What's  past,  and  what's  to  come,  is  strew'd  with  husks 
The  formless  ruin  of  Oblivion. 

Ctltte.  —  Shakspeare. 
HTIME  travels  in  divers  paces  with  divers  persons  :  I'll  tell  you 
who  Time  ambles  withal,  who  Time  trots  withal,  who  Time 
gallops  withal,  and  who  he  stands  still  withal.  He  trots  hard  with 
a  young  maid,  between  the  contract  of  her  Marriage  and  the  day 
it  is  solemnized:  if  the  interim  be  but  a  se'nnight,  Time's  pace  is 
so  hard,  that  it  seems  the  length  of  seven  years. — He  ambles  with 
a  Priest  that  lacks  Latin,  and  a  Rich  Man  that  hath  not  the  Gout; 
for  the  one  sleeps  easily,  because  he  cannot  study ;  and  the  other 
lives  merrily,  because  he  feels  no  pain  :  the  one  lacking  the  burden 
of  lean  and  wasteful  learning;  the  other  knowing  no  burden  of 
heavy  tedious  penury  :  These  time  ambles  withal. — He  gallops  with 
a  Thief  to  the  gallows :  for  though  he  go  as  softly  as  foot  can  fall, 
he  thinks  himself  too  soon  there. — He  stays  still  with  Lawyers  in 
the  vacation  ;  for  they  sleep  between  term  and  term,  and  then  they 
perceive  not  how  Time  moves. 

Qlixnt.  —  Young. 
VOUTH  is  not  rich  in  Time,  it  may  be  poor ; 
Part  with  it  as  with  Money,  sparing;  pay 
No  moment,  but  in  purchase  of  its  worth; 
And  what  it's  worth,  ask  Death-beds ;  they  can  tell. 


OR,    THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  505 

Chile.  —  Shahspeare. 

It  is  ten  o'clock  : 
Thus  may  we  see,  how  the  world  wags : 
'Tis  but  an  hour  ago,  since  it  was  Nine ; 
And  after  an  hour  more,  'twill  be  Eleven; 
And  so,  from  hour  to  hour,  we  ripe  and  ripe, 
And  then,  from  hour  to  hour,  we  rot  and  rot, 
And  thereby  hangs  a  Tale. 

Ctme.  —  Steele. 
TT  is  notorious  to  Philosophers,  that  Joy  and  Grief  can  hasten 
and  delay  Time.     Locke   is  of  opinion,  that  a  man  in  great 
Misery  may  so  far  lose  his  measure,  as  to  think  a  Minute  an  Hour; 
or  in  Joy  make  an  Hour  a  Minute. 

Ctme.—  Byron. 
"WHERE  is  the  World,"  cries  Young,  at  eighty?  "Where 

The  World  in  which  a  man  was  born  I"  Alas  ! 
Where  is  the  World  of  eight  years  past  ?  'Twas  there — 

I  look  for  it — 'tis  gone,  a  Globe  of  glass  ! 
Crack'd,  shiver'd,  vanish'd,  scarcely  gazed  on  ere 

A  silent  change  dissolves  the  glittering  mass. 
Statesmen,  Chiefs,  Orators,  Queens,  Patriots,  Kings, 
And  Dandies,  all  are  gone  on  the  wind's  wings. 

Chile.  —  Seneca. 
T'HE  velocity  with  which  Time  flies  is  infinite,  as  is  most  apparent 
to  those  who  look  back. 

&imt.— Blair. 

Time  hurries  on 
With  a  resistless,  unremitting  Stream* 
Yet  treads  more  soft  than  e'er  did  midnight  Thief, 
That  slides  his  hand  under  the  Miser's  pillow, 
And  carries  off  his  Prize. 

Chile.  —  Byron. 

There  is  given 
Unto  the  things  of  Earth,  which  time  hath  bent, 
A  spirit's  feeling,  and  where  he  hath  leant 
His  hand,  but  broke  his  Scythe,  there  is  a  power 
And  magic. 

Chile.  —  Shahspeare. 
J^IKE  as  the  waves  make  toward  the  pebbled  shore, 

So  do  our  Minutes  hasten  to  their  end ; 
Each  changing  place  with  that  which  goes  before  : 
In  sequent  Toil  all  forward  do  contend. 


.06  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 


Tis 


CtmC  —  Dyer. 

now  the  Raven's  bleak  abode ; 
'Tis  now  the  apartment  of  the  Toad ; 
And  there  the  Fox  securely  feeds ; 
And  there  the  poisonous  Adder  breeds, 
Conceal' d  in  ruins,  moss,  and  weeds ; 
While,  ever  and  anon,  there  falls 
Huge  heaps  of  hoary  moulder'd  walls. 
Yet  Time  has  seen,  which  lifts  the  low, 
And  level  lays  the  lofty  brow, 
Has  seen  the  broken  Pile  complete, 
Big  with  the  Vanity  of  State ; 
But  transient  is  the  smile  of  Fate  ! 
A  little  rule,  a  little  sway, 
A  Sun-beam  in  a  winter's  day, 
Is  all  the  proud  and  mighty  have 
Between  the  Cradle  and  the  Grave. 

^Limt.  — Horace. 
It  flows,  and  it  will  flow  uninterruptedly  through  every  Age. 

Cf)e  fflirOttg  f4me.  —  Zimmerman. 
'THE  Quarter  of  an  Hour  before  Dinner  is  the  worst  suitors  can 
choose. 

Ctttte.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
J^[IS-SHAPEN  Time,  copesmate  of  ugly  Night, 

Swift  subtle  post,  carrier  of  grisly  Care ; 
Eater  of  Youth,  false  slave  to  false  delight, 

Base  watch  of  Woes,  Sin's  pack-horse,  Virtue's  snare ; 

Thou  nursest  all,  and  murderest  all,  that  are. 
Time's  glory  is  to  calm  contending  Kings; 

To  unmask  Falsehood,  and  bring  Truth  to  light; 
To  stamp  the  seal  of  Time  on  aged  things ; 

To  wake  the  Morn,  and  centinel  the  Night; 

To  wrong  the  Wronger,  till  he  render  Right ; 
To  ruinate  proud  buildings  with  thy  hours, 
And  smear  with  dust  their  glittering  golden  Towers : 

To  fill  with  worm-holes  stately  monuments ; 
To  feed  Oblivion  with  decay  of  things ; 

To  blot  old  Books,  and  alter  their  contents  ; 
To  pluck  the  quills  from  ancient  raven's  wings ; 
To  dry  the  old  Oak's  sap,  and  cherish  springs ; 
To  spoil  antiquities  of  hammer'd  steel, 
And  turn  the  giddy  round  of  Fortune's  wheel : 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  507 

To  show  the  beldame  daughters  of  her  daughter; 

To  make  the  child  a  man,  the  man  a  child ; 
To  slay  the  Tiger,  that  doth  live  by  slaughter ; 

To  tame  the  Unicorn,  and  Lion  wild ; 

To  mock  the  subtle,  in  themselves  beguiled; 
To  cheer  the  ploughman  with  increaseful  crops, 
And  waste  huge  Stones  with  little  Water-drops. 

Why  work'st  thou  Mischief  in  thy  "pilgrimage, 
Unless  thou  could' st  return  to  make  amends? 

One  poor  retiring  minute  in  an  age, 
Would  purchase  thee  a  thousand  thousand  friends  ; 
Lending  him  Wit,  that  to  bad  debtors  lends. 

Ctme.  —  Mason. 
As  every  thread  of  Gold  is  valuable,  so  is  every  minute  of  Time. 

Cttlte.  —  Shakspeare. 
Minutes,  Hours,  Days,  Weeks,  and  Years, 
Pass'd  over  to  the  end  they  were  created, 
Would  bring  white  hairs  unto  a  quiet  Grave. 

QLiWXt.  —  Franklin. 
TF  Time  be  of  all  things  the  most  precious,  wasting  Time  must  be 
the  greatest  prodigality,  since  lost  Time  is  never  found  again ; 
and  what  we  call  Time  enough  always  proves  little  enough.  Let 
us  then  up  and  be  doing,  and  doing  to  the  purpose ;  so  by  diligence 
shall  we  do  more  with  less  perplexity.  Sloth  makes  all  things  diffi- 
cult, but  Industry  all  easy;  and  he  that  riseth  late  must  trot  all 
day,  and  shall  scarce  overtake  his  business  at  night ;  while  Laziness 
travels  so  slowly,  that  Poverty  soon  overtakes  him.  Drive  thy  busi- 
ness, let  not  that  drive  thee ;  and  early  to  bed,  and  early  to  rise, 
makes  a  man  healthy,  wealthy,  and  wise. 

{EnmttJttp,  —  Shakspeare. 
CtO,  prick  thy  Face,  and  over-red  thy  Fear, 
^    Thou  lily-liver'd  Boy.     What  Soldiers,  Patch  ? 
Death  of  thy  Soul !  Those  linen  cheeks  of  thine 
Are  counsellors  to  Fear. 

&f)e  2Ttteo  icptrit—  Joanna  Baillie. 
"pULL  many  a  Storm  on  this  gray  head  has  beat; 

And  now,  on  my  high  station  do  I  stand, 
Like  the  tired  Watchman  in  his  air-rock' d  tower, 
Who  looketh  for  the  hour  of  his  Release. 
I'm  sick  of  worldly  broils,  and  fain  would  rest 
With  those  who  war  no  more 


508  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH, 


Cities.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
PJIGH  Titles  debase,  instead  of  elevating,  those  who  know  not 
how  to  support  them. 

Cofcacco,— Tom. 

A  LL  experienced  people  will  tell  you  that  the  habit  of  using 
Tobacco    in   any  shape   will   soon   render  you  emsfciated   and 
consumptive,  your  Nerves  shattered,  your  spirits  low  and  moody, 
your  Throat  dry  and  demanding  stimulating  drinks. 

l&eltgtous  Coletattcm.  —  story. 

'THERE  is  not  a  truth  to  be  gathered  from  history  more  certain, 
or  more  momentous,  than  this  :  that  civil  liberty  cannot  long  be 
separated  from  religious  liberty  without  danger,  and  ultimately  with- 
out destruction  to  both.  Wherever  religious  liberty  exists,  it  will, 
tirst  or  last,  bring  in  and  establish  political  liberty.  Wherever  it  is 
suppressed,  the  church  establishment  will,  first  or  last,  become  the 
engine  of  despotism,  and  overthrow,  unless  it  be  itself  overthrown, 
every  vestige  of  political  right.  How  it  is  possible  to  imagine  that 
a  religion  breathing  the  spirit  of  mercy  and  benevolence,  teaching 
the  forgiveness  of  injuries,  the  exercise  of  charity,  and  the  return 
of  good  for  evil )  how  it  is  possible,  I  say,  for  such  a  religion  to  be 
so  perverted  as  to  breathe  the  spirit  of  slaughter  and  persecution, 
of  discord  and  vengeance,  for  differences  of  opinion,  is  a  most  unac- 
countable and  extraordinary  moral  phenomenon.  Still  more  ex- 
traordinary, that  it  should  be  the  doctrine,  not  of  base  and  wicked 
men  merely,  seeking  to  cover  up  their  own  misdeeds,  but  of  good 
men,  seeking  the  way  of  salvation  with  uprightness  of  heart  and 
purpose.  It  affords  a  melancholy  proof  of  the  infirmity  of  human 
judgment,  and  teaches  a  lesson  of  humility  from  which  spiritual 
pride  may  learn  meekness,  and  spiritual  zeal  a  moderating  wisdom 

Cc^morroto.  —  Cotton. 

To-morrow,  didst  thou  say  ? 
Methought  I  heard  Horatio  say,  To-Morrow ! 
Go  to; — I  will  not  hear  of  it — To-morrow  ! 
'Tis  a  sharper  who  stakes  his  penury 
Against  thy  plenty — who  takes  thy  ready  cash, 
And  pays  thee  nought  but  Wishes,  Hopes,  and  Promises, 
The  currency  of  idiots.     Injurious  bankrupt, 
That  gulls  the  easy  creditor  !     To-morrow  ! 
It  is  a  period  nowhere  to  be  found 
In  all  the  hoary  registers  of  Time, 
Unless  perchance  in  the  fool's  calendar. 
Wisdom  disclaims  the  word,  nor  holds  society 


OR,    THINGS   NEW   AND    OLD.  509 

With  those  that  own  it.     No,  my  Horatio, 
'Tis  Fancy's  child,  and  Folly  is  its  father : 
Wrought  on  such  stuff  as  dreams  are;  and  baseless 
As  the  fantastic  visions  of  the  Evening. 

Co^mO  rm  to.—  Young. 
TN  human  Hearts  what  bolder  thought  can  rise, 

Than  man's  presumption  on  To-morrow's  dawn  ? 
Where  is  To-morrow  ?     In  another  world. 
For  numbers  this  is  certain  :  the  reverse 
Is  sure  to  none;  and  yet  on  this  "perhaps," 
This  "peradventure,"  infamous  for  lies, 
As  on  a  rock  of  Adamant,  we  build 
Our  mountain  Hopes ;  spin  out  eternal  schemes, 
As  we  the  Fatal  Sisters  could  out-spin, 
And,  big  with  Life's  futurities,  expire. 

Co^mOCroto.  —  Johnson. 
Can  that  hoary  Wisdom 
Borne  down  with  years,  still  doat  upon  To-morrow  ? 
That  fatal  Mistress  of  the  young,  the  lazy, 
The  coward,  and  the  fool,  condernn'd  to  lose 
An  useless  Life  in  wishing  for  To-morrow, 
To  gaze  with  longing  eyes  upon  To-morrow, 
Till  interposing  Death  destroys  the  prospect ! 
Strange  !  that  this  general  fraud  from  day  to  day 
Should  fill  the  world  with  wretches  undetected. 
The  Soldier  lab'ring  thro'  a  winter's  march, 
Still  sees  To-morrow  dress'd  in  robes  of  triumph; 
Still  to  the  Lover's  long-expecting  arms, 
To-morrow  brings  the  visionary  bride ; 
But  thou,  too  old  to  bear  another  cheat, 
Learn,  that  the  Present  Hour  alone  is  Man's. 

Self^Corment.  —  From  the  Latin. 
\TOTHINGr  more  is  wanting  to  render  a  man  miserable,  than  that 
he  should  fancy  he  is  so. 

Cranqutllttg.  —  Jean  Paul. 
HEN  the  Heart  of  man  is  serene  and  tranquil,  he  wants  to 
enjoy  nothing  but  himself;  every  movement — even  corporeal 
movement — shakes  the  brimming  Nectar  cup  too  rudely. 

labelling.  —  Lord  Lyttelton. 
"VTE  other  cares  in  other  climes  engage, 

Cares  that  become  my  birth,  and  suit  my  age; 
In  various  Knowledge  to  improve  my  youth, 
And  conquer  Prejudice,  worst  foe  to  Truth; 


W> 


510  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

By  foreign  arts,  domestic  faults  to  mend. 
Enlarge  my  notions  and  my  views  extend ; 
The  useful  science  of  the  World  to  know,  - 
Which  books  can  never  teach,  or  pedants  show. 

Ctegpa&SL  —  Gieero. 

T7VERY  man  should  submit  to  his  own  Grievances,  rather  than 
trespass  on  the  conveniences  or  comforts  of  his  Neighbour. 

&  CrouWcfi  g&ixit.—  Joanna  Baillie. 
C\  NIGrHT,  when  good  men  rest,  and  infants  sleep  ! 

Thou  art  to  me  no  season  of  Repose, 
But  a  fear'd  time  of  waking  more  intense, 
Of  Life  more  keen,  of  Misery  more  palpable. 

CrUSttltg  tO  OtjetS.  —  Sir.  W.  Temple. 
A    MAN  that  only  translates,  shall  never  be  a  Poet;  nor  a  Painter 
that  only  copies;   nor  a   Swimmer  that   swims  always  with 
bladders  :  so  people  that  trust  wholly  to  others'  Charity,  and  with- 
out Industry  of  their  own,  will  always  be  poor. 

QlXUfy.—  Greville. 
rrHE  mind's  eye  is  perhaps  no  better  fitted  for  the  full  radiance 
of  Truth,  than  is  the  body's  for  that  of  the  Sun. 

KtUtfj.—  CoIton. 
HPHE  interests  of  Society  often  render  it  expedient  not  to  utter 
the  whole  Truth,  the  interests  of  Science  never ;  for  in  this  field 
we  have  much  more  to  fear  from  the  deficiency  of  Truth,  than  from 
its  abundance. 

CtUtj).  —  Terence. 
Obsequiousness  begets  friends ;  Truth,  hatred. 

Crtttj).—  Paley. 
F  HAVE  seldom   known  any  one  who  deserted  Truth  in  trifles, 
that  could  be  trusted  in  matters  of  Importance. 

dllt  f) .  —  Johnson. 

A  CCUSTOM  your  children  to  a  strict  attention  to  Truth,  even 

in  the  most  minute  particulars.     If  a  thing  happened  at  one 

window,  and  they,  when  relating  it,  say  that  it  happened  at  another, 

do  not  let  it  pass,  but  instantly  check  them  :  you  do  not  know 

where  deviations  from  Truth  will  end. 

CtUtj)-  —  Shaftesbury. 
rFHE  most  natural  beauty  in  the  world  is  Honesty  and  moral 
Truth.     For  all  Beauty  is  Truth.     True  Features  make  the 
beauty  of  a  Face;  and  true  proportions  the  beauty  of  Architecture  : 
us  true  Measures  that  of  Harmony  and  Music. 


OR,   THIXGS   NEW  AXD    OLD.  511 

CtUt  j.  —  From  the  Latin. 
There  is  no  doctrine  so  false  as  not  to  contain  in  it  some  Truth 

ffttttf).—  Phcedrus. 

HPO  believe  is  dangerous,  to  be  unbelieving  is  equally  so ;  the 
Truth   therefore  should  be  diligently  sought  after,  lest  that  a 
foolish  opinion  should  lead  you  to  pronounce  an  unsound  judg- 
ment 

Cttltf) Goldsmith. 

T  LEARN  several  great  Truths :  as  that  it  is  impossible  to   see 
into  the  ways  of  Futurity ;  that  Punishment  always  attends  the 
villain ;  that  Love  is  the  fond  soother  of  the  human  breast. 

CtUtf).  —  Bacon. 
(CERTAINLY  it  is  Heaven  upon  Earth  to  have  a  man's  mind 
move  in  Charity,  rest  in  Providence,  and  turn  upon  the  poles 
of  Truth. 

STttttlj.—  Shakspeare. 
'TRUTH'S  a  Dog  that  must  to  kennel  j   he  must  be  whipp'd  out, 
when  Lady,  the  brach,  may  stand  by  the  fire  and  stink. 

Crutf).  —  Locke. 
'TRUTH,  whether  in  or  out  of  fashion,  is  the  measure  of  Know- 
ledge, and  the  business  of  the  Understanding;   whatsoever  is 
besides  that,  however  authorized  by  consent,  is  nothing  but  Igno- 
rance, or  something  worse. 

ITnttJ*— Mackenzie. 

TT  is  curious  to  observe  how  the  nature  of  Truth  may  be  changed 
by  the  garb  it  wears;  softened  to  the  admonition  of  Friendship, 
or  soured  into  the  severity  of  Reproof;  yet  this  severity  may  be 
useful  to  some  tempers;  it  somewhat  resembles  a  File,  disagreeable 
in  its  operations,  but  hard  Metal  may  be  the  brighter  for  it. 

HLxutf}.  — South. 
'THE  Reason  of  things  lies  in  a  narrow  compass,  if  the  Mind  could 
at  any  time  be  so  happy  as  to  light  upon  it.  Most  of  the  writ- 
ings and  discourses  in  the  world  are  but  illustration  and  Rhetoric, 
which  signifies  as  much  as  nothing  to  a  mind  in  pursuit  after  the 
philosophical  Truth  of  things. 

CrUti).  —  Casaubon. 
'JHE  study  of  Truth  is  perpetually  joined  with  the  love  of  Virtue  ; 
for  there's  no  Virtue  which  derives  not  its  original  from  Truth  ■ 
as,  on  the  contrary,  there  is  no  Vice  which  has  not  its  beginning 
from  a  Lie.  Truth  is  the  foundation  of  all  knowledge,  and  the 
cement  of  all  society. 

2T 


512  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

QLtufy.  —  CoUon. 
'THE  adorer  of  Truth  is  above  all  present  things.  Firm  in  the 
midst  of  Temptation,  and  frank  in  the  midst  of  Treachery,  he 
will  be  attacked  by  those  who  have  prejudices,  simply  because  he  is 
without  them,  decried  as  a  bad  bargain  by  all  who  want  to  purchase, 
because  he  alone  is  not  to  be  bought,  and  abused  by  all  parties,  be- 
cause he  is  the  advocate  of  none  ;  like  the  Dolphin,  which  is  always 
painted  more  crooked  than  a  ram's  horn,  although  every  Naturalist 
knows  that  it  is  the  straightest  Fish  that  swims. 

WtVify.—MiUon. 

'TRUTH  is  as  impossible  to  be  soiled  by  any  outward  touch,  as  the 
Sunbeam ;  though  this  ill  hap  wait  on  her  nativity,  that  she 
never  comes  into  the  world,  but  like  a  bastard,  to  the  ignominy  of 
him  that  brought  her  forth  ;  till  time,  the  midwife  rather  than  the 
mother  of  Truth,  have  washed  and  salted  the  infant,  declared  her 
legitimate,  and  churched  the  father  of  his  young  Minerva,  from  the 
needless  causes  of  his  purgation. 

CtUt  f).  —  ShaJcspeare. 
r~)H,  how  much  more  doth  Beauty  beauteous  seem, 
By  that  sweet  ornament  which  Truth  doth  give ! 
The  Rose  looks  fair,  but  fairer  we  it  deem 

For  that  sweet  odour  which  doth  in  it  live. 
The  canker-blooms  have  full  as  deep  a  dye, 

As  the  perfumed  tincture  of  the  Roses-; 
Hang  on  such  thorns,  and  play  as  wantonly, 

When  summer's  breath  their  masked  buds  discloses; 
But,  for  their  Virtue  only  is  their  show, 

They  live  unwoo'd,  and  uninspected  fade; 
Die  to  themselves ;  sweet  Roses  do  not  so ; 

Of  their  sweet  Deaths  are  sweetest  odours  made. 

CtUtj).—  Cowper. 
All  Truth  is  precious,  if  not  all  divine, 
And  what  dilates  the  pow'rs  must  needs  refine. 

CtUti).  —  Cotton. 
'THE  affairs  of  this  world  are  kept  together  by  what  little  Truth 
and  Integrity  still  remains  amongst  us ;  and  yet  I  much  ques- 
tion whether  the  absolute  dominion  of  Truth  would  be  compatible 
with  the  existence  of  any  society  now  existing  upon  the  face  of  the 
Earth.  Pure  Truth,  like  pure  Gold,  has  been  found  unfit  for  cir- 
culation, because  men  have  discovered  that  it  is  far  more  convenient 
to  adulterate  the  Truth,  than  to  refine  themselves.  They  will  not 
advance  their  Minds  to  the  Standard,  therefore  they  lower  ihe 
Standard  to  their  Minds. 


0  I?.    T EIN G  S  NE  W  AND    OLD.  5 13 

STrUtf)*— -Ammian. 

TRUTH  is  violated  by  Falsehood,  and  it  may  be  equally  outrages 
by  Silence. 

Criltf).  —  Murphy. 
None  but  Cowards  lie. 

CtUtf).—  Shakspeare. 
If  circumstances  lead  me,  I  will  find 
Where  Truth  is  hid,  though  it  were  hid  indeed 
Within  the  Centre. 

CtUtt).  —  Seneca. 
The  expression  of  Truth  is  Simplicity. 

STrUtf).  —  Cowper. 

Much  learned  dust 
Involves  the  combatants,  each  claiming  Truth, 
And  Truth  disclaiming  both.     And  thus  they  spend 
The  little  wick  of  Life's  poor  shallow  lamp, 
In  playing  tricks  with  Nature,  giving  laws 
To  distant  worlds,  and  trifling  in  their  own. 

3TtUti).  —  Shakspeare. 
Truth  needs  no  colour,  with  his  colour  fix'd ; 
Beauty  no  pencil,  Beauty's  Truth  to  lay ; 
But  best  is  best,  if  never  intermix'd. 

CtUtj).  —  Colton. 
'TRUTH  is  the  object  of  Reason,  and  this  is  one;  Beauty  is  the 
object  of  Taste,  and  this  is  multiform. 

CtUtt).  —  Tacitus. 
TRUTH  is  established  by  investigation  and   delay;    Falsehood 
prospers  by  precipitancy. 

^TtUtf).  —  Ammian. 
Truth  is  simple,  requiring  neither  Study  nor  Art. 

Ctlltfj.  —  Colton. 

TRUTH  can  hardly  be  expected  to  adapt  herself  to  the  crooked 
policy  and  wily  sinuosities  of  worldly  affairs ;  for  Truth,  like 
light,  travels  only  in  straight  lines. 

Crutf).  —  From  the  Latin. 
TRUTH,   by  whomsoever  spoken,   comes  from  Grod.     It  is,  iD 
short,  a  divine  essence. 

&nitf).  —  Fro m  the  French. 
THE  adherence  to  Truth  does  not  produce  so  much  good  in  the 
world,  as  the  appearances  of  it  do  mischief. 


514  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Crutf).—  Milton. 
TRUTH  came  once  into  the  world  with  her  Divine  Master,  and 
was  a  perfect  shape  most  glorious  to  look  on  :  but  when  he 
ascended,  and  his  Apostles  after  him  were  laid  asleep,  then  straight 
arose  a  wicked  race  of  deceivers,  who,  as  that  story  goes  of  the 
Egyptian  Typhon  with  his  conspirators,  how  they  dealt  with  the 
good  Osiris,  took  the  virgin  Truth,  hewed  her  lovely  form  into  a 
thousand  pieces,  and  scattered  them  to  the  four  winds.  From  that 
time  ever  since,  the  sad  friends  of  Truth,  such  as  durst  appear,  imi- 
tating the  careful  search  that  Isis  made  for  the  mangled  body  of 
Osiris,  went  up  and  down  gathering  up  limb  by  limb  still  as  they 
could  find  them.  We  have  not  yet  found  them  all,  nor  ever  shall 
do,  till  her  Master's  second  coming;  he  shall  bring  together  every 
joint  and  member,  and  shall  mould  them  into  an  immortal  feature 
of  Loveliness  and  Perfection. 

Cuttf).—  Cotton. 
IF  a  man  be  sincerely  wedded  to  Truth,  he  must  make  up  his 
mind  to  find  her  a  portionless  Virgin,  and  he  must  take  her  for 
herself  alone.  The  contract  too,  must  be  to  love,  cherish,  and  obey 
her,  not  only  until  Death,  but  beyond  it;  for  this  is  an  union 
that  must  survive  not  only  Death,  but  Time,  the  conqueror  of 
Death. 

CtUtt)*  —  From  the  Latin. 
Truth  fears  nothing  but  Concealment. 

CtUtf).  —  Steele. 

THOUGH  men  may  impose  upon  themselves  what  they  please, 
by  their  corrupt  imaginations,  Truth  will  ever  keep  its  station ; 
and  as  glory  is   nothing  else  but  the   shadow  of  Virtue,  it  will 
certainly  disappear  at  the  departure  of  Virtue. 

^TrUtlj.—  Anon. 
IS  there  less  of  Sincerity  in  Nature  during  her  gambols  in  spring, 
than  during  the  stiffness  and  harshness  of  her  wintry  gloom  ? 
Does  not  the  bird's  blithe  caroling  come  from  the  Heart,  quite  as 
much  as  the  quadruped's  monotonous  cry  ?  And  is  it  then  alto- 
gether impossible  to  take  up  one's  abode  with  Truth,  and  to  let 
all  sweet  homely  feelings  grow  about  it  and  cluster  around  it,  and 
to  smile  upon  it  as  on  a  kind  father  or  mother,  and  to  sport  with  it 
and  hold  light  and  merry  talk  with  it  as  with  a  loved  brother  or 
sister,  and  to  fondle  it,  and  play  with  it  as  with  a  child  ?  No  other- 
wise did  Socrates  and  Plato  commune  with  Truth  ;  no  otherwise 
Cervantes  and  Shakspeare.  This  playfulness  of  truth  is  beauti- 
fully represented  by  Landor,  in  the  Conversation  between  Marcus 
Cicero  and  his  brother,  in  an  allegory  which  has  the  voice  and  the 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  515 

spirit  of  Plato.  On  the  other  hand,  the  outcries  of  those  who  ex- 
claim against  every  sound  more  lively  than  a  bray  or  a  bleat,  as 
derogatory  to  Truth,  are  often  prompted,  not  so  much  by  their  deep 
feeling  of  the  dignity  of  the  Truth  in  question,  as  of  the  dignity  of 
the  person  by  whom  that  Truth  is  maintained.  It  is  our  Vanity, 
our  Self-Conceit,  that  makes  us  so  sore  and  irritable.  To  a  grave 
argument  we  may  reply  gravely,  and  fancy  that  we  have  the  best 
of  it :  but  he  who  is  too  dull  or  too  angry  to  smile,  cannot  answer 
a  smile,  except  by  fretting  and  fuming. 

&VUfy.  —  OoUon. 

rFHE  greatest  friend  of  Truth  is  Time;    her  greatest  enemy  is 
Prejudice;  and  her  constant  companion  is  Humility. 

EtUtfj.  —  Colton. 
THE  temple  of  Truth  is  built  indeed  of  stones  of  Crystal,  but,  in- 
asmuch as  men  have  been  concerned  in  rearing  it,  it  has  been 
consolidated  by  a  cement  composed  of  baser  materials.  It  is  deeply 
to  be  lamented  that  Truth  herself  will  attract  little  attention,  and 
less  Esteem,  until  it  be  amalgamated  with  some  particular  party, 
persuasion,  or  sect;  unmixed  and  unadulterated,  it  too  often  proves 
as  unfit  for  currency,  as  pure  Gold  for  circulation.  Sir  Walter  Ra- 
leigh has  observed,  that  he  who  follows  Truth  too  closely,  must  take 
care  that  she  does  not  strike  out  his  teeth. 

CtUtf).  —  South. 
HPRUTH  is  a  great  stronghold,  barred  and  fortified  by  God  and 
Nature;  and  Diligence  is  properly  the  Understanding's  laying 
siege  to  it ;  so  that,  as  in  a  kind  of  warfare,  it  must  be  perpetually 
upon  the  watch,  observing  all  the  avenues  and  passes  to  it,  and  ac- 
cordingly makes  its  approaches.  Sometimes  it  thinks  it  gains  a 
point;  and  presently  again  it  finds  itself  baffled  and  beaten  off:  yet 
still  it  renews  the  onset,  attacks  the  difficulty  afresh,  plants  this 
reasoning,  and  that  argument,  this  consequence,  and  that  distinc- 
tion, like  so  many  intellectual  batteries,  till  at  length,  it  forces  a 
way  and  passage  into  the  obstinate  enclosed  Truth,  that  so  long 
withstood  and  defied  all  its  assaults. 

TtUtt).  —  Sir  T.Broicn. 
TgVERY  man  is  not  a  proper  champion  for  Truth,  nor  fit  to  take 
up  the  gauntlet  in  the  cause  of  Verity:  many,  from  the  igno- 
rance of  these  maxims  and  an  inconsiderate  zeal  unto  Truth,  have 
too  rashly  charged  the  troops  of  Error,  and  remain  as  trophies  unto 
the  Enemies  of  Truth  :  a  man  may  be  in  as  just  possession  of 
Truth,  as  of  a  city,  and  yet  be  forced  to  surrender;  'tis  therefore 
far  better  to  enjoy  her  with  Peace,  than  to  hazard  her  on  a  battle. 

2t2 


516         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

CtUtf).  —  Sir  W.  Temple. 
T'RUTH  will  be  uppermost,  one  time  or  other,  like  Cork,  though 
kept  down  in  the  water. 

Crtltj).  —  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 
JpTE  that  finds  Truth,  without  loving   her,  is  like  a  bat;  which, 
though  it  have  eyes  to  discern  that  there  is  a  Sun,  yet  hath  so 
evil  eyes,  that  it  cannot  delight  in  the  Sun. 

CtUtf).—  Cato. 
jsjOME  men  are  more  beholden  to  their  bitterest  Enemies,  than  to 
Friends  who  appear  to  be  sweetness  itself.     The  former  fre- 
quently tell  the  Truth,  but  the  latter  never. 

Cttttf).  —  Stede. 

TTUMAN  nature  is  not  so  much  depraved  as  to  hinder  us  from  re- 
specting Goodness  in  others,  though  we  ourselves  want  it. 
This  is  the  reason  why  we  are  so  much  charmed  with  the  pretty 
prattle  of  children,  and  even  the  expressions  of  Pleasure  or  uneasi- 
ness in  some  of  the  brute  creation.  They  are  without  Artifice  or 
Malice ;  and  we  love  Truth  too  well  to  resist  the  charms  of  Sin- 
cerity. 

Cttttj).—  Cotton. 

~^"0  bad  man  ever  wished  that  his  Breast  was  made  of  glass,  or 
that  others  could  read  his  thoughts.  But  the  misery  is,  that 
the  Duplicities,  the  Temptations,  and  the  Infirmities  that  surround 
us,  have  rendered  the  Truth,  and  nothing  but  the  Truth,  as  hazard- 
ous and  contraband  a  commodity  as  a  Man  can  possibly  deal  in. 

Cttltf)*  —  Drydm. 

\\TE  find  but  few  historians  of  all  ages,  who  have  been  diligent 
enough  in  their  search  for  truth ;  it  is  their  common  method 
to  take  on  trust  what  they  distribute  to  the  public;  by  which  means 
a  Falsehood  once  received  from  a  famed  writer  becomes  traditional 
to  Posterity. 

CrUlj.  —  Bare. 

TT  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  the  Poet  does  not  know  Truth  by  sight 
quite  as  well  as  the  Philosopher.  He  must;  for  he  is  ever  see- 
ing her  in  the  mirrors  of  Nature.  The  difference  between  them  is, 
that  the  Poet  is  satisfied  with  worshipping  her  reflected  image, 
while  the  Philosopher  traces  her  out  -and  follows  her  to  her  remote 
abode  between  Cause  and  Consequence,  and  there  impregnates  her. 
The  one  loves  and  makes  love  to  Truth  ;  the  other  esteems  and 
weda  her. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD.  517 

Sel^CgCannj).  —  Shakspeare. 
T  CANNOT  tell,  what  you  and  other  men 

Think  of  this  life ;  but,  for  my  single  self, 
I  had  as  lief  not  be,  as  live  to  be 
In  awe  of  such  a  thing  as  I  myself. 

Cpranng.—  Milton. 

So  spake  the  Fiend,  and  with  Necessity, 
The  Tyrant's  plea,  excused  his  devilish  deeds. 

Cpranitg.  —  Skahspeare. 

AT  some  time,  when  his' soaring  Insolence 

Shall  reach  the  people,  (which  time  shall  not  want, 
If  he  be  put  upon't;  and  that's  as  easy, 
As  to  set  Dogs  on  shejp,)  will  be  the  Fire 
To  kindle  their  dry  stubble ;  and  their  Blaze 
Shall  darken  him  for  ever. 

Cptaimjj.—  Claudian. 
He  who  strikes  Terror  into  others,  is  himself  in  continual  fear. 

2Tf)e  £h\r\atUXal  —  S/mkspcare. 
THAT  Nature  which  contemns  its  origin, 

Cannot  be  border'd  certain  in  itself; 
She,  that  herself  will  sliver  and  disbranch 
From  her  material  sap,  perforce  must  wither, 
And  come  to  deadly  use. 

Cije  £JnSeen.  —  From  the  Latin. 
Every  thing  unknown  to  us,  we  suppose  to  be  magnificent. 

£tnfjappmc0S.  —  Milton. 

JQID  I  request  thee,  Maker,  from  my  clay 
To  mould  me  man  ?  Did  I  solicit  thee 
From  darkness  to  promote  me,  or  here  place 
In  this  delicious  Garden  ?  As  my  will 
Concurr'd  not  to  my  being,  it  were  but  right 
And  equal  to  reduce  me  to  my  Dust, 
Desirous  to  resign  and  render  back 
All  I  received,  unable  to  perform 
Thy  terms  too  hard,  by  which  I  was  to  hold 
The  Good  I  sought  not. 

QLntQnmamntnz.  —  siiakspeare. 

He  that  is  robb'd,  not  wanting  what  is  stolen, 
Let  him  not  kn^w  it,  and  he's  not  robb'd  at  all. 


618  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH;   . 

2att0teatritte£0.  —  Shakspeare. 

0  perilous  mouths, 
That  bear  in  them  one  and  the  selfsame  tongue, 
Either  of  Condemnation  or  Approof ! 
Bidding  the  Law  make  curt'sy  to  their  will; 
Hooking  both  right  and  wrong  to  th'  Appetite, 
To  follow  as  it  draws  ! 

W$Z  Wlmxn.  —  Fuller. 
Cj-0  not  to  a  covetous  old  Man  with  any  Request  too  soon  in 
the  Morning,  before  he  hath  taken  in  that  day's  Prey :  for 
his  Covetousness  is  up  before  him,  and  he  before  thee,  and  he  is 
in  111  humour :  but  stay  till  the  Afternoon,  till  he  be  satiated  upon 
some  Borrower. 

Cf)e  ^SUrpet.  —  Shakspeare. 
J^  SCEPTRE,  snatch'd  with  an  unruly  Hand, 

Must  be  as  boisterously  maintain'd  as  gain'd ; 
And  he  that  stands  upon  a  slippery  place, 
Makes  nice  of  no  vile  hold  to  stay  him  up. 

'fcJatUtg.—  Anon. 
T>RIDE  and  Vanity  are  for  ever  spoken  of  side  by  side;  and 
many  suppose  that  they  are  merely  different  shades  of  the 
same  feeling.  Yet,  so  far  are  they  from  being  akin,  they  can 
hardly  find  room  in  the  same  breast.  A  Proud  Man  will  not  stoop 
to  be  vain ;  a  Vain  Man  is  so  busy  in  bowing  and  wriggling  to  catch 
fair  words  from  others,  that  he  can  never  lift  up  his  head  into 
Pride. 

Vanity.  — Coiton. 

1"  ADIES  of  Fashion  starve  their  Happiness  to  feed  their  Vanity, 
and  their  Love  to  feed  their  Pride. 

Vanity.— Pope. 

T7VERY  man  has  just  as  much  Vanity  as  he  wants  Understand- 
ing. 

Vanity*  —  Coiton. 

TF  you  cannot  inspire  a  woman  with  Love  of  you,  fill  her  above 
the    brim  with  Love  of    herself; — all    that  runs  over  will   be 
yours. 

Vanity.  —  Greviiu. 

^ANITY  is  the  Poison  of  agreeableness ;  yet  as  Poison,  when 
artfully  and  properly  applied,  has  a  salutary  effect  in  medicine, 
so  has  Vanity  in  the  commerce  and  society  of  the  World. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  519 


Vanity.— Anon. 
'THERE  are  persons  who  would  lie  prostrate  on  the  ground,  if 
their  Vanity  or  their  Pride  did  not  hold  them  up. 

Vanity.  —  La  Bochefoucauld. 
T7VERY  person  complains  of  the  badness  of  his  Memory,  but 
none  of  their  defective  Judgment. 

Vanity.  —  Anon. 
T>RIDE  in  former  ages  may  have  been  held  in  too  good  repute ; 
Vanity  is  so  now.  Pride,  which  is  the  fault  of  greatness  and 
strength,  is  sneered  at  and  abhorred  :  to  Vanity,  the  froth  and 
consummation  of  weakness,  every  indulgence  is  shown.  For  Pride 
stands  aloof  by  itself;  and  that  we  are  too  mob-like  to  bear: 
Vanity  is  unable  to  stand,  except  by  leaning  on  others,  and  is  care- 
ful therefore  of  giving  offence ;  nay,  is  ready  to  fawn  on  those  by 
whom  it  hopes  to  be  fed. 

Vanity.  —  La  Brw/ere. 
AN  Egotist  will  always  speak  of  himself,  either  in  Praise  or  in 
Censure  :  but  a  modest  man  ever  shuns  making  himself  the 
subject  of  his  Conversation. 

Vanity.  — Swift. 

GOME  men  make  a  Vanity  of  telling  their  faults;  they  are  the 
strangest  men  in  the  World  ;  they  cannot  dissemble ;  they  own 
it  is  a  folly  ;  they  have  los^  abundance  of  advantages  by  it ;  but  if 
you  would  give  them  the  World,  they  cannot  help  it;  there  is 
something  in  their  nature  which  abhors  Insincerity  and  Constraint; 
with  many  other  insufferable  topics  of  the  same  alcitude. 

Vanity.  — Anon. 
HTIIEY  who  do  speak  ill  of  themselves,  do  so  mostly  as  the  surest 
way  of  proving  how  modest  and  candid  they  are. 

Vanity.  —  Sterne. 
yANITY  bids   all    her  Sons   be  brave,  and  all  her  Daughters 
chaste  and  courteous.      But  why  do  we  need  her  instructions  'i 
Ask  the  comedian  who  is  taught  a  part  which  he  does  not  feel. 

Vtn^tantt.  —Bonaparte. 
Vengeance  has  no  Foresight. 

ITeruOSttp.  —  Shakspeare. 
JE  draweth  out  the  thread  of  his  Verbosity  finer  than  the  staple 
of  his  argument.      I  abhor  such  fanatical  fantasms,  such  inso- 
ciable  and  point-device  companions,  such  Rackers  of  Orthography 


520  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

ViCt,  —  Byron. 
^HINK'ST  thou  there  is  no  tyranny  but  that 

Of  Blood  and  Chains  ?     The  despotism  of  Vice — 
The  weakness  and  the  wickedness  of  Luxury — 
The  negligence — the  apathy — the  evils 
Of  sensual  Sloth — produce  ten  thousand  tyrants, 
Whose  delegated  cruelty  surpasses 
The  worst  acts  of  one  energetic  master, 
However  harsh  and  hard  in  his  own  bearing. 

Vitt.  —  Colton. 
"T-TE  that  has  energy  enough  in  his  constitution  to  root  out  a  Vice, 
should  go  a  little  farther,  and  try  to  plant  in  a  Virtue  in  its 
place,  otherwise  he  will  have  his  labour  to  renew ;  a  strong  soil  that 
has  produced  Weeds,  may  be  made  to  produce  Wheat,  with  far  less 
difficulty  than  it  would  cost  to  make  it  produce  Nothing. 

Vitt*  —  Pope. 
TTECE  is  a  monster  of  so  frightful  mien, 
As  to  be  hated  needs  but  to  be  seen ; 
Yet  seen  too  oft,  familiar  with  her  face, 
We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace. 

Vitt*  —  Shakspeare. 
Vice  repeated,  is  like  the  wand'ring  Wind, 
Blows  Dust  in  others'  eyes. 

V  tee.—  Byron. 
T^ICE  cannot  fix,  and  Virtue  cannot  change. 

The  once  fall'n  woman  must  for  ever  fall ; 
For  Vice  must  have  variety,  while  Virtue 
Stands  like  the  Sun,  and  all  which  rolls  around 
Drinks  Life,  and  Light,  and  Glory  from  her  aspect. 

Vitt*  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
\\TE  do  not  despise  all  those  who  have  Vices,  but  we  despise  all 
those  who  have  not  a  single  Virtue. 

Vitt*  —  Colton. 
\TICE  stings  us,  even  in  our  pleasures,  but  Virtue  consoles  us, 
even  in  our  pains. 

Vitt*  — Juvenal. 
No  man  ever  arrived  suddenly  at  the  summit  of  Vice. 

Vitt*  —  Colton. 
rrHE  horrible  catastrophes  that  sometimes  happen  to  the  Vicious 
are  as  salutary  to  others  by  their  warning,  as  the  most  brilliant 
rewards  of  the  Virtuous  are  by  their  example. 


OR,   THING  S  NEW  AND    OLD.  521 

Vitt.  —  Sir  P.  Sidney. 
TN  actions  of  Life,  who  seeth  not  the  filthiness  of  Evil,  wanteth  a 
great  foil  to  perceive  the  beauty  of  Virtue. 

VUe.  —  Colton. 
'THE  Good  make  a  better  bargain,  and  the  Bad  a  worse,  than  is 
usually  supposed ;  for  the  rewards  of  the  one,  and  the  punish- 
ments of  the  other,  not  unfrequently  begin  on  this  side  of  the 
grave ;  for  Vice  has  more  martyrs  than  Virtue ;  and  it  often  hap- 
pens that  men  suffer  more  to  be  lost  than  to  be  saved. 

ViCt.  —  Shakspeare. 
T)UT  when  we  in  our  Viciousness  grow  hard, 

(Oh  misery  on't)  the  wise  Gods  seal  our  eyes ; 
In  our  own  filth  drop  our  clear  judgments;  make  us 
Adore  our  errors ;  laugh  at  us  while  we  strut 
To  our  Confusion. 

ViCt.  — La  Rochefoucauld. 
IT  may  be  said  that  the  Vices  await  us  in  the  Journey  of  Life 
like  hosts  with  whom  we  must  successively  lodge;  and  I  doubt 
whether  experience  would  make  us  avoid  them  if  we  were  to  travel 
the  same  road  a  second  time. 

V\Ct.  —  Burke. 
VIRTUE  will  catch  as  well  as  Vice  by  contact;  and  the  public 
stock  of  honest,  manly  principle  will  daily  accumulate.  We 
are  not  too  nicely  to  scrutinize  motives  as  long  as  action  is  irre- 
proachable. It  is  enough  (and  for  a  worthy  man  perhaps  too 
much)  to  deal  out  its  Infamy  to  convicted  Guilt  and  declared  Apos- 
tasy. 

ViCt.  -  Colton. 
Y\rHEN  Mandeville  maintained  that  Private  Vices  were  Public 
Benefits,  he  did  not  calculate  the  widely  destructive  influence 
of  bad  example.  To  affirm  that  a  vicious  man  is  only  his  own 
Enemy,  is  about  as  wise  as  to  affirm  that  a  virtuous  man  is  only  his 
own  Friend. 

ViCt.  —  Shenstone. 
YTIRTUE  seems  to  be  nothing  more  than  a  motion  consonant  to 
the  system  of  things ;  were  a  Planet  to  fly  from  its  orbit,  it 
would  represent  a  Vicious  Man. 

ViCt.  —  Colton. 
'J'HE  Martyrs  to  Vice  far  exceed  the  Martyrs  to  Virtue,  both  in 
endurance  and  in  number.     So  blinded  are  we  by  our  passions, 
that  we  suffer  more  to  be  damned  than  to  be  saved. 


522  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Vitt,  —  Colton. 
TN  all  civilized  communities,  there  must  of  necessity  exist  a  small 
portion  of  Society,  who  are  in  a  great  measure  independent  of 
public  opinion.  How  then  is  this  seeming  advantage  balanced  in 
the  great  account?  These  privileged  individuals,  surrounded  by 
Parasites,  Sycophants,  and  Deceivers,  too  often  become  the  willing 
victims  of  Self-Delusion,  Flattery,  or  Design.  Such  persons  com- 
mence by  being  their  own  masters,  and  finish  by  being  their  own 
slaves,  the  automata  of  Passion,  the  Heliogaboli  of  Excess,  and  the 
Martyrs  of  Disease.  Undelighted  amidst  all  delight,  and  joyless 
amidst  all  enjoyment,  yet  sateless  in  the  very  lap  of  satiety,  they 
eventually  receive  the  full  measure  of  the  punishment  of  their 
Polly,  their  Profligacy,  or  their  Vice  ;  nay,  they  often  suffer  more 
than  other  men,  not  because  they  are  as  amenable  as  their  inferiors, 
but  because  they  go  greater  lengths.  Experience  speaks  to  such  in 
vain,  and  they  sink  deeper  in  the  Abyss,  in  precise  proportion  to 
the  height  from  which  they  have  plunged. 

Vitt.  —  Tucker. 
'THE  allurements  of  Fancy  prove  the  first  source  of  wantonness, 
of  unlucky  and  mischievous  tricks  in  the  earliest  years,  and  in 
the  riper  often  produce  more  troublesome  effects  ;  for  a  flow  of 
Prosperity  with  continual  indulgence  of  the  desires,  commonly 
makes  men  capricious,  selfish,  narrow-minded,  intractable,  contemp- 
tuous, and  overbearing,  until  some  galling  Disappointment  or  mis- 
fortune has  taught  them,  that  there  are  other  objects  necessary  to 
be  thought  of,  besides  that  of  pleasing  themselves. 

Vitt,  —  Colton. 
A  SOCIETY  composed  of  none  but  the  Wicked,  could  not  exist ; 
it  contains  within  itself  the  seeds  of  its  own  Destruction,  and, 
without  a  flood,  would  be  swept  away  from  the  Earth  by  the  deluge 
of  its  own  Iniquity.  The  moral  cement  of  all  society  is  Virtue  ;  it 
unites  and  preserves,  while  Vice  separates  and  destroys.  The  good 
may  well  be  termed  the  Salt  of  the  Earth.  For  where  there  is  no 
integrity,  there  can  be  no  confidence  j  and  where  there  is  no  confi- 
dence, there  can  be  no  unanimity. 

"fcJtCC.  —  Shakspeare. 
One  sin  another  doth  provoke. 

VUt,  —  Pope. 
But  when  to  Mischief  mortals  bend  their  will, 
How  soon  they  find  fit  instruments  of  111 ! 

VUt,  —  Anon. 
"VTANY  a  man's  Vices   have  at  first  been  nothing  worse  than 
Good  Qualities  run  wild. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  523 

Vice.  —  Colton. 
THREAT  examples  to  Virtue,  or  to  Vice,  are  not  so  productive  of 
imitation  as  might  at  first  sight  be  supposed.  The  fact  is,  there 
are  hundreds  that  want  Energy,  for  one  that  wants  Ambition,  and 
Sloth  has  prevented  as  many  Vices  in  some  minds,  as  Virtues  in 
others.  Idleness  is  the  grand  Pacific  Ocean  of  life,  and  in  that 
stagnant  Abyss,  the  most  salutary  things  produce  no  good,  the  most 
noxious  no  evil.  Vice  indeed,  abstractedly  considered,  may  be, 
and  often  is,  engendered  in  Idleness,  but  the  moment  it  becomes 
efficiently  Vice,  it  must  quit  its  cradle  and  cease  to  be  idle. 

VtCe.  —  Byron. 
Not  all  that  Heralds  rake  from  coffiu'd  clay, 
Nor  florid  Prose,  nor  honied  lies  of  Rhyme, 
Can  blazon  evil  deeds,  or  consecrate  a  Crime. 

Vice.  —  Seneca. 
"VITHY  is  there  no  man  who  confesses  his  Vices  ?     It  is  because 
he  has  not  yet  laid  them  aside.     It  is  a  waking  man  only  who 
can  tell  his  dreams. 

"fcJtgt lattCe.  —From  the  Latin. 
The  Master's  eye  makes  the  Horse  fat. 

Uillany.  —  Colton. 

^yiLLANY  that  is  vigilant,  will  be  an  overmatch  for  Virtue,  if 
she  slumber  on  her  post ;  and  hence  it  is  that  a  bad  cause  has 
often  triumphed  over  a  good  one,-  for  the  Partisans  of  the  former, 
knowing  that  their  cause  will  do  nothing  for  them,  have  done  every 
thing  for  their  Cause ;  whereas,  the  friends  of  the  latter  are  too 
apt  to  expect  every  thing  from  their  Cause,  and  to  do  nothing  for 
themselves. 

UtrtUe.  —  Shakspeare. 
A  Heart  unspotted  is  not  easily  daunted. 

Virtue.  —  Cowper. 
The  only  amaranthine  flow'r  on  earth 
Is  Virtue  j  the  only  lasting  treasure,  Truth. 

Virtue Armstrong. 

^TIRTUE,  (for  mere  good-nature  is  a  fool,) 

Is  sense  and  spirit  with  Humanity  : 
'Tis  sometimes  angry,  and  its  frown  confounds; 
'Tis  even  vindictive,  but  in  Vengeance  just. 
Knaves  fain  would  laugh  at  it ;  some  great  ones  dare ; 
But  at  his  Heart  the  most  undaunted  son 
Of  Fortune  dreads  its  name  and  awful  charms. 
2U 


624  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

FtrtUe.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTOW  far  that  little  Candle  throws  his  beams  ! 

So  shines  a  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world. 
Heaven  doth  with  us,  as  we  with  torches  do ; 
Not  light  them  for  themselves ;  for  if  our  Virtues 
Did  not  go  forth  of  us,  ;twere  all  alike 
As  if  we  had  them  not. 

UittVLt.  —  Thomson, 
J>ELIEVE  the  muse,  the  wintry  blast  of  Death 

Kills  not  the  buds  of  Virtue  ;  no,  they  spread, 
Beneath  the  heavenly  beams  of  brighter  Suns, 
Thro'  endless  ages,  into  higher  powers. 

Vittnt.  —  Young. 
His  hand  the  Good  Man  fastens  on  the  skies, 
And  bids  Earth  roll,  nor  feels  her  idle  whirl. 

UtttUe.  —  Dryden. 

A  settled  Virtue, 
Makes  itself  a  Judge ;  and  satisfied  within, 
Smiles  at  that  common  enemy,  the  World. 

Virtue.  -Pope. 

VITHAT  nothing  earthly  gives,  or  can  destroy, 

The  Soul's  calm  sunshine,  and  the  heart-felt  joy, 
Is  Virtue's  prize  :  a  better  would  you  fix? 
Then  give  Humility  a  coach  and  six, 
Justice  a  conqueror's  sword,  or  Truth  a  gown, 
Or  public  Spirit  its  great  cure,  a  crown. 
Weak,  foolish  man  !  will  Heaven  reward  us  there 
With  the  same  trash  mad  mortals  wish  for  here  ? 
The  boy  and  man  an  individual  makes, 
Yet  sigh'st  thou  now  for  apples  and  for  cakes  ? 
Go,  like  the  Indian,  in  another  life 
Expect  thy  dog,  thy  bottle,  and  thy  wife; 
As  well  as  dream  such  trifles  are  assign'd 
As  toys  and  empires,  for  a  godlike  mind ; 
Rewards,  that  either  would  to  Virtue  bring 
No  Joy,  or  be  destructive  of  the  thing. 

Virtue.—  Pope. 

T>UT  sometimes  Virtue  starves,  while  Vice  is  fed  ? 

What  then  ?  Is  the  reward  of  Virtue  bread  ; 
That,  Vice  may  merit — 'tis  the  price  of  toil ;   * 
The  knave  deserves  it,  when  he  tills  the  soil ; 
The  knave  deserves  it,  when  he  tempts  the  main, 
Where  folly  fights  for  Kings,  or  dives  for  gain. 


OR,    THIXGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  525 

The  good  man  may  be  weak,  be  indolent, 

Nor  is  his  claim  to  plenty,  but  content. 

But  grant  him  Riches,  your  demand  is  o'er  ? 

No — shall  the  good  want  Health,  the  good  want  Power  ? 

Add  Health  and  Power,  and  every  earthly  thing, 

Why  bounded  power  ?  why  private  ?  why  no  King  ? 

Nay,  why  external  for  internal  given  ? 

Why  is  not  man  a  God,  and  earth  a  Heaven? 

Who  asK  and  reason  thus,  will  scarce  conceive 

God  gives  enough,  while  he  has  more  to  give; 

Immense  the  power,  immense  were  the  demand ; 

Say,  at  what  part  of  Nature  will  they  stand  ? 

UiTtVLt.  —  TJwmson. 
0  Virtue  !  Virtue  !  as  thy  joys  excel, 
So  are  thy  woes  transcendent ;   the  gross  world 
Knows  not  the  Bliss  or  Misery  of  either. 

FtttUe.  —  Young. 
"yiRTLil,  not  rolling  suns,  the  mind  matures; 

That  Life  is  long,  which  answers  Life's  great  end. 
The  time  that  bears  no  fruit,  deserves  no  name ; 
The  Man  of  Wisdom  is  the  man  of  Years. 

UtrtUe.  —  Young. 
A    GOOD  man,  and  an  Angel !  these  between  ; 

How  thin  the  barrier!     What  divides  their  fate? 
Perhaps  a  moment,  or  perhaps  a  year ; 
Or,  if  an  age,  it  is  a  moment  still; 
A  moment,  or  Eternity's  forgot. 

VittUt.  —  Young. 
'THE  man  who  consecrates  his  hours 

By  vig'rous  effort,  and  an  honest  aim, 
At  once  he  draws  the  sting  of  Life  and  Death ; 
He  walks  with  Nature;  and  her  paths  are  Peace. 

VittUt.  —  Miller. 

Thou  know'st  but  little, 
If  thou  dost  think  true  Virtue  is  confined 
To  climes  or  systems;  no,  it  flows  spontaneous, 
Like  Life's  warm  stream,  throughout  the  whole  Creation, 
And  beats  the  pulse  of  every  healthful  heart. 

UiXiXLt.  — Horace. 
I  ET  the  Wise  Man  be  considered  as  a  fool,  the  Just  Man  as  un- 
just, if  his  rigorous  adherence  even   to  Virtue  herself  carries 
him  beyond  the  proper  bounds. 


f>26         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

V  ICtUe.  —  Young. 
Who  does  the  best  his  circumstance  allows, 
Does  well,  acts  nobly;  Angels  could  no  more. 

Virtue.  —  Moore. 
fPHE  plain,  good  man,  whose  actions  teach 

More  Virtue  than  a  sect  can  preach, 
Pursues  his  course,  unsagely  blest, 
His  tutor  whisp'ring  in  his  breast : 
Nor  could  he  act  a  purer  part, 
Though  he  had  Tully  all  by  heart; 
And  when  he  drops  the  tear  on  Wo, 
He  little  knows,  or  cares  to  know, 
That  Epictetus  blamed  that  tear, 
By  Heaven  approved,  to  Virtue  dear. 

T^trtUe,  —  Shakspeare. 
I  held  it  ever, 
Virtue  and  Knowledge  were  endowments  greater 
Than  Nobleness  and  Riches :  careless  heirs 
May  the  two  latter  darken  and  expend ; 
But  Immortality  attends  the  former, 
Making  a  man  a  Grod. 

~&ittUZ.  —  Cardinal  Richelieu. 
A   VIRTUOUS  and  well-disposed  person,  like  a  good  Metal,  the 
more  he  is  fired,  the  more  he  is  fined;  the  more  he  is  opposed, 
the  more  he  is  approved  :  Wrongs  may  well  try  him,  and  touch 
him,  but  cannot  imprint  in  him  any  false  stamp. 

HJittWZ.  — La  Rochefoucauld. 
"T/^ANITY,  Shame,  and  above  all,   Temperament,  are   often  the 
causes  of  Courage  in  men,  and  of  Virtue  in  women. 

UiXtVLt.  — Seneca. 
VIRTUE,  like  Fire,  turns  all  things  into  itself :  our  Actions  and 
our  Friendships  are  tinctured  with  it,  and  whatever  it  touches 
becomes  amiable. 

VtrtUC.  —  Shakspeare. 
~pROM  lowest  place  when  virtuous  things  proceed, 

The  place  is  dignified  by  the  doer's  deed : 
Where  great  additions  swell,  and  Virtue  none, 
It  is  a  dropsied  honour  :  Good  alone 
Is  good,  without  a  name  ;  Vileness  is  so  : 
The  property  by  what  it  is  should  go, 
Not  by  the  Title. 


OR,  THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  527 

Y  trtUC.  —  Shalspeare. 
"\riRTUE,  that  transgresses,  is  but  patched  with  Sin  \  and  Sin, 
that  amends,  is  but  patched  with  Virtue. 

VilXWt.  —  Grevffle. 

/^)NE  great  reason  why  Virtue  is  so  little  practised,  is  its  being  so 
ill  understood. 

Virtue.  —  Shakspeare. 
Oh,  let  not  Virtue  seek 
Remuneration  for  the  thing  it  was ! 
For  Beauty,  Wit, 

High  Birth,  Vigour  of  Bone,  Desert  in  Service, 
Love,  Friendship,  Charity,  are  subjects  all 
To  envious  and  calumniating  Time. 

ViKtVLt.  —  Shakspeare. 
A  LL  places  that  the  eye  of  Heaven  visits, 
Are  to  a  wise  man  ports  and  happy  havens : 
Teach  thy  necessity  to  reason  thus : 
There  is  no  Virtue  like  Necessity. 

"fc7tttU0.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
TT  is  with  certain  Good  Qualities  as  with  the  Senses ;  those  who 
are  entirely  deprived  of  them  can  neither  appreciate  nor  com- 
prehend them 

UtttUe.  —  Grecille. 
The  best  judges  of  Pleasure  are  the  best  judges  of  Virtue. 

UilXUZ.  —  Colton. 
T'HERE  are  two  things  which  speak  as  with  a  voice  from  heaven, 
that  He  that  fills  that  eternal  throne  must  be  on  the  side  of 
Virtue,  and  that  which  He  befriends  must  finally  prosper  and  pre- 
vail. The  first  is,  that  the  Bad  are  never  completely  happy  and 
at  ease,  although  possessed  of  every  thing  that  this  World  can 
bestow ;  and  that  the  Good  are  never  completely  miserable,  al- 
though deprived  of  every  thing  that  this  World  can  take  away. 
We  are  so  framed  and  constituted,  that  the  most  vicious  cannot 
but  pay  a  secret  though  unwilling  homage  to  Virtue,  inasmuch 
as  the  worst  men  cannot  bring  themselves  thoroughly  to  esteem  a 
bad  man,  although  he  may  be  their  dearest  Friend,  nor  can  they 
thoroughly  despise  a  good  man,  although  he  may  be  their  bitter- 
est Enemy.  From  this  inward  esteem  for  Virtue,  which  the 
noblest  cherish,  and  which  the  basest  cannot  expel,  it  follows 
that  Virtue  is  the  only  bond  of  union  on  which  we  can  thoroughly 
depend. 

2  u  2 


fc>8  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

lyittUt.  —  Sir  P.  Sidney. 
rV0  be  ambitious  of  true  Honour,  of  the  true  Glory  and  Perfec- 
tion of  our  natures,  is  the  very  principle  and  incentive  of 
Virtue  j  but  to  be  ambitious  of  titles,  of  place,  of  ceremonial 
respects  and  civil  pageantry,  is  as  vain  and  little  as  the  things  are 
which  we  court. 

Virtue.  —  St.  Evremond. 
VrIRTUE  I  love,  without  austerity  ;  Pleasure  without  effeminacy; 
and  Life  without  fearing  its  end. 

UittUt.  —  Cotton. 
'THERE  is  but  one  pursuit  in  Life  which  it  is  in  the  power  of  all 
to  follow,  and  of  all  to  attain.     It  is  subject  to  no  Disappoint- 
ments, since  he  that  perseveres  makes  every  Difficulty  an  advance- 
ment, and  every  contest  a  Victory  :  and  this  is  the  pursuit  of  Virtue. 

l^trtUe.  —  SJtakspeare. 
TN  nature  there's  no  blemish,  but  the  Mind; 

None  can  be  call'd  deform'd,  but  the  unkind  : 
Virtue  is  Beauty ;  but  the  Beauteous-evil 
Are  empty  trunks,  o'erflourish'd  by  the  Devil. 

UtrtUe.  —  Seneca. 
"VTO  man  is  born  wise;  but  Wisdom  and  Virtue  require  a  tutor; 
though  we  can  easily  learn  to  be  vicious  without  a  master. 

"fc7tttUe.  —  Shakspeare. 
Sundry  blessings  hang  about  his  Throne, 
That  speak  him  full  of  Grace. 

17  tttUe.  —  Massinger. 
T>RINCES  can  never  more  make  known  their  Wisdom 

Than  when  they  cherish  Goodness  where  they  find  it; 
They  being  Men,  not  Gods, 
They  can  give  wealth  and  titles,  but  no  Virtue ; 
That  is  without  their  power. 

"UittVLZ.  —  Shakspeare. 
When  once  our  Grace  we  have  forgot, 
Nothing  goes  right. 

Virtue.  —  South. 

V\TERE  there  but  one  Virtuous  Man  in  the  world,  he  would  hold 
up  his  head  with  Confidence  and  Honour;  he  would  shame 
the  world,  and  not  the  world  him. 

ViXtm.  —  Socrates. 
A    HORSE  is  not  known  by  his  furniture,  but  qualities;  so  men 
are  to  be  esteemed  for  Virtue,  not  Wealth. 


OR,    THIXGS    NEW   AXD     OLD.  529 

"fcJtttUC.  —  Cicero. 
"\"0  man  should  be  so  much  taken   up  in  the  search  of  Truth,  as 
thereby  to  neglect  the  more  necessary  duties  of  active  life;  for 
after  all  is  done,  it  is  action  only  that  gives  a  true  Value  and  com- 
mendation to  Virtue. 

*fc7tttue.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
A  truly  virtuous  man  is  he  who  prides  himself  upon  nothing. 

"fcJtttllC.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
T>ERFECT  Virtue  is  to  do  unwitnessed  what  we  should  be  capa- 
ble of  doing  before  all  the  world. 

Cf)e  Volatile.  —  Shenstone. 
"PXTREME  volatile  and  sprightly  tempers  seem  inconsistent 
with  any  great  Enjoyment.  There  is  too  much  time  wasted 
in  the  mere  transition  from  one  object  to  another.  No  room  for 
those  deep  impressions,  which  are  made  alone  by  the  duration  of 
an  Idea,  and  are  quite  requisite  to  any  strong  sensation,  either  of 
pleasure  or  of  pain.  The  Bee  to  collect  honey,  )v  the  Spider  to 
gather  poison,  must  abide  some  time  upon  the  weed  or  flower. 
They  whose  fluids  are  mere  Sal  Volatile,  seem  rather  cheerful  than 
happy  men.  The  temper  above  described  is  oftener  the  lot  of 
Wits,  than  of  persons  of  great  Abilities. 

UotoS.  —  Fuller. 
AT AKE  no  Vows  to   perform   this   or   that :  it  shows  no  great 
Strength,  and  makes  thee  ride  behind  thyself. 

WHHmt*.  — Johnson. 
TITHERE  Necessity  ends,  Curiosity  begins;  and  no  sooner  are 
we  supplied  with  every  thing  that  Nature  can  demand,  than 
we  sit  down  to  contrive  artificial  appetites. 

TOiants.—  Coiton. 

\YTE  are  ruined,  not  by  what  we  really  want,  but  by  what  we 
think  we  do;  therefore  never  go  abroad  in  search  of  your 
wants  ;  if  they  be  real  wants,  they  will  come  home  in  search  of  you  ; 
foi  he  that  buys  what  he  does  not  want,  will  soon  want  what  he 
cannot  buy. 

(LHantS.—  Anon. 
[TOW  few  are  our  real  Wants  !  and   how  easy  is  it  to  satisfy 
them  !     Our  imaginary  ones  are  boundless  and  insatiable. 

92ftattt£.— -Socrates. 

The  fewer  our  wants,  the  nearer  we  resemble  fhe  G-octe. 

34 


m  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

QMaX.  —  St.  Evremond. 
TN  "War,  people  judge,  for  the  most  part,  by  the  Success,  what- 
ever is  the  opinion  of  the  wiser  sort.     Let  a  man  show  all  the 
good  conduct  that  is  possible,  if  the  Event  does  not  answer,  ill 
fortune  passes  for  a  fault,  and  is  justified  but  by  a  very  few  persons. 

W&at.— Addison. 
\   THOUSAND  glorious  Actions,  that  might  claim 

Triumphant  laurels,  and  immortal  Fame, 
Confused  in  crowds  of  glorious  actions  lie, 
And  troops  of  Heroes  undistinguish'd  die. 

(H^UeE.  — Joanna  Baillie. 
War  is  honourable 
In  those  who  do  their  native  rights  maintain ; 
In  those  whose  Swords  an  iron  barrier  are 
Between  the  lawless  spoiler  and  the  weak  : 
But  is  in  those  who  draw  th'  offensive  blade 
For  added  power  or  gain,  sordid  and  despicable 
As  meanest  office  of  the  worldly  Churl. 

W&LWC.—  Shakspeare. 

The  Arms  are  fair, 
When  the  intent  of  bearing  them  is  just. 

&2Ear.  _  Thomson. 
THJT  what  most  show'd  the  Vanity  of  Life, 

Was  to  behold  the  nations  all  on  fire, 
In  cruel  broils  engaged  and  deadly  strife ; 

Most  Christian  Kings  inflamed  by  black  desire  1 

With  honourable  ruffians  in  their  hire, 
Cause  War  to  rage,  and  Blood  around  to  pour ; 

Of  this  sad  work  when  each  begins  to  tire, 
They  set  them  down  just  where  they  were  before, 
Till  for  new  scenes  of  Wo  Peace  shall  their  force  restore 

Wlat.  —  Shakspeare. 
Take  heed, 
How  you  awake  our  sleeping  Sword  of  War; 
We  charge  you  in  the  name  of  God,  take  heed. 
For  never  two  such  Kingdoms  did  contend 
Without  much  fall  of  blood ;  whose  guiltless  drops 
Are  every  one  a  Wo,  a  sore  complaint, 
'Gainst  him,  whose  wrong  gives  edge  unto  the  swords, 
That  makes  such  waste  in  brief  Mortality. 

2i2Har,  —  ShaJcspeare. 
A    VICTORY  is  twice  itself,  when  the  achiever  brings  home  full 
numbers. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD.  531 

£iLlai\  —  Southern. 
T)OST  thou  not  know  the  fate  of  Soldiers? 

They're  but  Ambition's  tools,  to  cut  a  way 
To  her  unlawful  ends  :  and  when  they're  worn, 
Hack'd,  hewn  with  constant  Service,  thrown  aside, 
To  rust  in  Peace,  and  rot  in  Hospitals. 

&2Rar.  —  Burke. 
ATrAR  suspends  the  rules  of  moral  obligation,  and  what  is  long 
suspended  is  in  danger  of  being  totally  abrogated.  Civil 
Wars  strike  deepest  of  all  into  the  manners  of  the  people.  They 
vitiate  their  Politics ;  they  corrupt  their  Morals ;  they  pervert  even 
the  natural  taste  and  relish  of  Equity  and  Justice.  By  teaching  us 
to  consider  our  fellow-creatures  in  au  hostile  light,  the  whole  body 
of  our  nation  becomes  gradually  less  dear  to  us.  The  very  names 
of  Affection  and  Kindred,  which  were  the  bond  of  Charity  whilst 
we  agreed,  become  new  incentives  to  hatred  and  rage,  when  the 
communion  of  our  country  is  dissolved. 

(L&l  a  t.  —  Sliakspeare. 

Will  you  again  unknit 
This  churlish  knot  of  all-abhorred  War, 
And  move  in  that  obedient  Orb  again, 
Where  you  did  give  a  fair  and  natural  light; 
And  be  no  more  au  exhaled  meteor, 
A  Prodigy  of  Fear,  and  a  portent 
Of  broached  mischief,  to  the  unborn  times? 

Ci)e  priest  WSSLaXXiOX.  — Shakspeare. 

It  better  show'd  with  you, 
When  that  your  flock,  assembled  by  the  Bell. 
Encircled  you,  to  hear  with  reverence 
Your  exposition  on  the  Holy  Text ; 
Than  now  to  see  you  here  an  iron  man, 
Cheering  a  rout  of  rebels  with  your  drum, 
Turning  the  Word  to  Sword,  and  Life  to  Death. 
OiaStC  —  Franklin. 
\yHAT  maintains  one  Vice,  would  bring  up  two  children.     Re- 
member, many  a  little  makes  a  mickle  j  and  farther,  beware 
of  little  expenses;  a  small  Leak  will  sink  a  great  Ship. 

<LZAcaW).  —  Colton. 
f  T  is  far  more  easy  to  acquire  a  Fortune  like  a  knave,  than  to  ex- 
pend it  like  a  Gentleman. 

lUUcaltij.  —  PropertiriH. 
A  LL  men  now  contend  for  Gold,  true  Piety  being  banished  from 
the  world.      Wealth  is  now  become  the  sole  ground  of  claim  to 
respect  or  consideration  among  men. 


532  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

<L<tiealti)*  —  La  Bruyere. 
A  S  Riches  and  Favour  forsake  a  man,  we  discover  him  to  be  a 
fool,  but  nobody  could  find  it  out  in  his  Prosperity 

WLtalfy.—  Hare. 
^"OTHING-  hides  a  blemish  so  completely  as  Cloth  of  Gold. 
This  is  the  first  lesson  that  heirs  and  heiresses  commonly  learn. 
Would  that  equal  pains  were  taken  to  convince  them,  that  the 
having  inherited  a  good  Cover  for  blemishes  does  not  entail  any 
absolute  necessity  of  providing  Blemishes  for  it  to  cover. 

&2Uea!tf)-  —  Coiton. 

f^J-ROSS  and  vulgar  minds  will  always  pay  a  higher  respect  to 
Wealth  than  to  Talent;  for  Wealth,  although  it  be  a  far  less 
efficient  source  of  power  than  Talent,  happens  to  be  far  more  in- 
telligible. 

Wlealtt).  —  Horace. 
SOVEREIGN  Money  procures  a  Wife  with  a  large  fortune,  gets 
a  man  Credit,  creates  Friends,  stands  in  the  place  of  Pedigree, 
and  even  of  Beauty. 

QSEtealtl.'—  La  Brut/ere. 
T  ET  us  not  envy  some  men  their  accumulated  Riches;  their  bur- 
den would  be  too  heavy  for  us ;  we  could  not  sacrifice,  as  they 
do,  Health,  Quiet,  Honour,  and  Conscience,  to  obtain  them  :  it  is 
to  pay  so  dear  for  them,  that  the  bargain  is  a  loss. 

W&it&ltf).  —  Cotton, 

TT  is  only  when  the  Rich  are  sick,  that  they  fully  feel  the  impo- 
tence of  Wealth. 

MJealtj).  —  La  Bruyere. 

THERE  is  nothing  keeps  longer  than  a  middling  Fortune,  and 
nothing  melts  away  sooner  than  a  great  one.     Poverty  treads 

upon  the  heels  of  great  and  unexpected  Riches. 

$211*alfS.—  Cotton. 
TN  proportion  as  nations  get  more  corrupt,  more   Disgrace  will 
attach  to  Poverty,  and  more  Respect  to  Wealth. 

S^ealti;— -Coiton. 

'THE  greatest  and  the  most  amiable  privilege  which  the  Rich  en- 
joy over  the  Poor,  is  that  which  they  exercise  the  least — the 
privilege  of  making  them  happy. 

WLtaltl).—  Butler. 
TV/TEN  venture  necks  to  gain  a  Fortune : 

The  Soldier  does  it  every  day 
(Eight  to  the  week)  for  sixpence  pay  : 
Your  Pettifoggers  damn  their  souls, 
To  share  with  knaves  in  cheating  fools. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  533 

9&Ualtj).  —  Shakspeare. 
THHE  aged  man  that  coffers  up  his  Gold, 

Is  plagued  with  cramps,  and  gouts,  and  painful  fits ; 
And  scarce  hath  eyes  his  Treasure  to  behold, 

But  like  still-pining  Tantalus  he  sits, 

And  useless  barns  the  Harvest  of  his  wits; 
Having  no  other  pleasure  of  his  gain, 
But  Torment  that  it  cannot  cure  his  pain. 

So  then  he  hath  it,  when  he  cannot  use  it, 
And  leaves  it  to  be  master'd  by  his  young; 

Who  in  their  pride  do  presently  abuse  it; 
Their  Father  was  too  weak,  and  they  too  strong, 
To  hold  their  cursed-bless'd  Fortune  long. 

ft&tealti).  —  From  the  Latin. 
'THE  acquisition  of  Wealth  is  a  work  of  great  Labour :  its  pos. 
session,  a  source  of  continual  Fear ;  its  loss,  of  excessive  Grief 

&2Healti) Johnson. 

T>UT,  scarce  observed,  the  knowing  and  the  bold 

Fall  in  the  gen'ral  massacre  of  Gold ; 
Wide  wasting  pest !  that  rages  unconfined, 
And  crowds  with  crimes  the  records  of  mankind : 
For  Gold  his  sword  the  hireling  ruffian  draws, 
For  Gold  the  hireling  judge  distorts  the  laws; 
Wealth  heap'd  ou  Wealth,  nor  truth  nor  safety  buys, 
The  dangers  gather  as  the  treasures  rise. 

£<JUealtt).  —Johnson. 
THE  needy  Traveller,  serene  and  gay, 

Walks  the  wide  heath,  and  sings  his  toil  away. 
Does  Envy  seize  thee  ?  crush  th'  upbraiding  Joy, 
Increase  his  riches,  and  his  peace  destroy. 

&2Healtf).  —  Crabbe. 
T\TEALTH  is  substantial  good  the  Fates  allot : 

We  know  we  have  it,  or  we  have  it  not. 
But  all  those  graces,  which  men  highly  rate, 
Their  minds  themselves  imagine  and  create. 

Mlealtf).  —  Johnson. 
TyHOSOEVER  shall  look  needfully  upon  those  who  are  eminent 
for  their  Riches,  will  not  think  their  condition  such  as  that  he 
should  hazard  his  quiet,  and  much  less  his  Virtue,  to  obtain  it:  for 
all  that  great  Wealth  generally  gives  above  a  moderate  fortune,  is 
more  room  for  the  freaks  of  Caprice,  and  more  privilege  for  Igno- 
rance and  Vice,  a  quicker  succession  of  Flatteries,  and  a  larger  cir- 
cle of  Voluptuousness. 


534  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Miealtf).  —  Spenser. 
A  LL  otherwise  (said  he)  I  riches  read, 

Arid  deeme  them  roote  of  all  Disquietnesse  : 
First  got  with  guile,  and  then  preserved  with  dread; 
And  after  spent  with  Pride  and  lavishnesse, 
Leaving  behind  them  Grief  and  heavinesse. 
Infinite  mischiefes  of  them  doe  arize ; 

Strife  and  Debate,  Bloodshed  and  Bitternesse, 
Outrageous  wrong,  and  hellish  covetize 
That  noble  hart  in  great  Dishonour  doth  despize. 

Mlealtf).—  Young. 
(~^AN  wealth  give  Happiness  ?  look  round,  and  see 

What  gay  distress  !  what  splendid  misery  ! 
Whatever  Fortune  lavishly  can  pour, 
The  mind  annihilates,  and  calls  for  more. 

raealtj-  —  Sir  William  Temple. 
J  EISURE  and  Solitude  are   the  best  effect  of  Riches,  because 
mother  of  Thought.     Both  are  avoided  by  most  rich  men,  who 
seek  Company  and  Business,  which  are    signs  of  being  weary  of 
themselves. 

raiealtt).  —  Gay. 
MOW  gaudy  Pride  corrupts  the  lavish  age, 

And  the  streets  flame  with  glaring  equipage ; 
The  tricking  Gamester  insolently  rides, 
With  loves  and  graces  on  his  chariot  sides ; 
In  saucy  state  the  griping  Broker  sits, 
And  laughs  at  Honesty  and  trudging  wits. 

OTlealtf).—  Johnson. 
'TO  purchase  Heaven  has  gold  the  power  ? 

Can  Gold  remove  the  mortal  hour  ? 
In  life  can  Love  be  bought  with  gold  ? 
Are  Friendship's  pleasures  to  be  sold  ? 
No — all  that's  worth  a  wish — a  thought, 
Fair  Virtue  gives  unbribed,  unbought. 
Cease  then  on  trash  thy  hopes  to  bind, 
Let  nobler  views  engage  thy  mind. 

Miealtf).  —  Shakspeare. 

If  thou  art  rich,  thou  art  poor; 
For,  like  an  ass,  whose  back  with  ingots  bows, 
Thou  bear'st  thy  heavy  Riches  but  a  journey, 
And  Death  unloads  thee. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  535 

OEealtf).—  Burton. 
"YVTORLDLY  Wealth  is  tbe  Devil's  Bait ;  and  those  whose  minds 
feed  upon  Riches,  recede,  in  general,  from  real  Happiness,  in 
proportion  as  their  stores  increase  j  as  the  Moon  when  she  is  fullest 
is  furthest  from  the  Sun. 

ft&lealtf).  —  Horace. 
\yHEN  I  caution  you  against  becoming  a  Miser,  I  do  not  there- 
fore  advise  you  to  become  a  Prodigal  or  a  Spendthrift. 

2Meepmg.  —  Byron. 
CHE  was  a  good  deal  shock'd ;  not  shock'd  at  Tears, 

For  Women  shed  and  use  them  at  their  liking; 
But  there  is  something  when  Man's  eye  appears 
Wet,  still  more  disagreeable  and  striking. 

MJealtf).  —  SAakspeare. 
T)ESPAIR  to  gain  doth  traffic  oft  for  gaining : 

And  when  great  Treasure  is  the  meed  proposed, 
Though  Death  be  adjunct,  there's  no  Death  supposed. 
Those  that  much  covet  are  of  gain  so  fond, 

That  what  they  have  not  (that  which  they  possess) 
They  scatter  and  unloose  it  from  their  bond, 

And  so  by  hoping  more  they  have  but  less ; 

Or  gaining  more  the  profit  of  Excess 
Is  but  to  surfeit,  and  such  griefs  sustain, 
That  they  prove  bankrupt  in  this  poor-rich  gain. 

The  aim  of  all  is  but  to  nurse  the  Life 
With  Honour,  Wealth,  and  Ease,  in  waning  Age  . 

And  in  this  aim  there  is  such  thwarting  strife, 
That  one  for  all,  or  all  for  one,  we  gage  : 
As  Life  for  Honour  in  fell  battle's  rage, 
Honour  for  Wealth,  and  oft  that  Wealth  doth  cost 
The  Death  of  all,  and  altogether  lost. 

So  that  in  venturing  all,  we  leave  to  be 
The  things  we  are  for  that  which  we  expect : 

And  this  ambitious  foul  infirmity, 
In  having  much,  torments  us  with  defect 
Of  that  we  have  :  so  then  we  do  neglect 
The  things  we  have,  and  all  for  want  of  Wit, 
Make  something  nothing  by  augmenting  it. 

Ct)e  WSJtiUomZ.  —  Shakspeare. 

Sir,  you  are  very  welcome  to  our  house  : 
It  must  appear  in  other  ways  than  words, 
Therefore  I  scant  this  breathing  Courtesy. 
2V 


16         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 


C 


S8Jf)S  aittJ  13ccaUSe.—  Lavater. 

ALL  him  wise  whose  Actions,  Words,  and  Steps  are  all  a  clear 
because  to  a  clear  why. 

Cf)e  <£&lttluto.—  Pope. 
THUS  day  by  day,  and  month  by  month  we  past; 

It  pleased  the  Lord  to  take  my  spouse  at  last. 
I  tore  my  gown,  I  soil'd  my  locks  with  dust, 
And  beat  my  breasts,  as  wretched  Widows  must ; 
Before,  my  face  my  Handkerchief  I  spread, 
To  hide  the  flood  of  Tears  I  did — not  shed. 

&f\Z  MittiOuVS  ttoO  itftteS.—  Webster. 

Y\rHAT  more  tender,  more  solemnly  affecting,  more  profoundly 
pathetic,  than  this  charity,  this  offering  to  God,  of  a  farthing  ! 
We  know  nothing  of  her  name,  her  family,  or  her  tribe.  We  only 
know  that  she  was  a  poor  Woman,  and  a  Widow,  of  whom  there  is 
nothing  left  upon  record  but  this  sublimely  simple  story,  that  when 
the  rich  men  came  to  cast  their  proud  offerings  into  the  treasury, 
this  poor  Woman  came  also,  and  cast  in  her  two  Mites,  which  made  a 
farthing  !  And  that  example,  thus  made  the  subject  of  divine  com- 
mendation, has  been  read,  and  told,  and  has  gone  abroad  everywhere, 
and  sunk  deep  into  a  hundred  million  of  hearts,  since  the  com- 
mencement of  the  Christian  era,  and  has  done  more  good  than  could 
oe  accomplished  by  a  thousand  marble  palaces,  because  it  was  cha- 
rity mingled  with  true  benevolence,  given  in  the  fear,  the  love,  the 
service,  and  the  honour  of  God;  because  it  was  charity,  that  had  its 
origin  in  religious  feeling ;  because  it  was  a  gift  to  the  honour  of 
God! 

€f)e  <tmiU.—  Milton. 

For  nothing  lovelier  can  be  found 
In  Woman,  than  to  study  household  good, 
And  good  works  in  her  Husband  to  promote. 

W§Z  2Mtfe.  —  Shakspeare. 

My  noble  Father, 
I  do  perceive  here  a  divided  duty ; 
To  you  I  am  bound  for  Life  and  Education ; 
My  Life  and  Education  both  do  learn  me 
How  to  respect  you  ;  you  are  the  lord  of  duty, 
I  am  hitherto  your  daughter:  but  here's  my  Husband; 
And  so  much  duty  as  my  mother  show'd 
To  you,  preferring  you  before  her  Father, 
So  much  I  challenge,  that  I  may  profess 
Due  to  my  Lord. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  537 

2Ti)e  <L<Htfe.  —  G.  H  Drummond. 
,rFIS  not  in  Hymen's  gay  propitious  hour, 

With  summer  beams  and  genial  breezes  blest, 
That  Man  a  Consort's  worth  approveth  best: 
'Tis  when  the  skies  with  gloomy  Tempests  lour, 
When  Cares  and  Sorrows  all  their  torrents  pour, 
She  clasps  him  closer  to  her  hallow'd  Breast, 
Pillows  his  Head,  and  lays  his  Heart  to  rest ; 
Drying  her  cheek  from  sympathetic  shower. 

QL\)Z  <Lh\ift.  —  Pope. 
CHE  who  ne'er  answers  till  a  Husband  cools, 

Or,  if  she  rules  him,  never  shows  she  rules; 
Charms  by  accepting,  by  submitting  sways, 
Yet  has  her  Humour  most,  when  she  obeys. 

QLfyt  ZMift-  —  Shakspeare. 

Thou  art  alone, 
If  thy  rare  qualities,  sweet  Gentleness, 
Thy  meekness  saint-like,  wife-like  government,-  - 
Obeying  in  commanding, — and  thy  parts, 
Sovereign  and  pious  else,  could  speak  thee  out, 
The  Queen  of  earthly  Queens. 

Ct)e  MAifC  — Milton. 

What  thou  bid'st 
Unargued  I  obey ;  so  God  ordains ; 
God  is  thy  law ;  thou  mine  :  to  know  no  more 
Is  Woman's  happiest  knowledge,  and  her  Praise. 

Ci)e  ft&ltfe.—  Hammond. 
TOEAUTY  and  worth  in  her  alike  contend, 

To  charm  the  fancy,  and  to  fix  the  mind ; 
In  her,  my  Wife,  my  Mistress,  and  my  Friend, 
I  taste  the  joys  of  Sense  and  Reason  join'd. 

Cf)e  <FMiti.  — Milton. 
Sole  partner,  and  sole  part,  of  all  these  Joys, 
Dearer  thyself  than  all. 

Ef)e  &£ltfe.—  Prior. 
QO,  if  for  any  sins  of  ours, 

Or  our  forefathers'  higher  powers, 
Severe,  though  just,  afflict  our  Life 
With  that  prime  ill,  a  talking  Wife; 
Till  Death  shall  bring  the  kind  relief, 
We  must  be  patient,  or  be  deaf. 


533         ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

Cije  WiiU Byron. 

Think  you,  if  Laura  had  been  Petrarch's  Wife, 
He  would  have  written  Sonnets  all  his  life  ? 

Cj)e  ZMHt.— Milton. 
Thy  Likeness,  thy  fit  help,  thy  other  self, 
Thy  wish  exactly  to  thy  Heart's  desire. 

Cf)e  WRiti.— Irving. 
T  HAVE  often  had  occasion  to  remark  the  fortitude  with  which 
Women  sustain  the  most  overwhelming  reverses  of  fortune 
Those  disasters  which  break  down  the  spirit  of  a  man  and  prostrate 
him  in  the  dust,  seem  to  call  forth  all  the  energies  of  the  softer 
sex,  and  give  such  intrepidity  and  elevation  to  their  character,  that 
at  times  it  approaches  to  sublimity.  Nothing  can  be  more  touch- 
ing than  to  behold  a  soft  and  tender  female,  who  had  been  all  weak- 
ness and  dependence,  and  alive  to  every  trivial  roughness  while 
treading  the  prosperous  paths  of  life,  suddenly  rising  in  mental 
force  to  be  the  comforter  and  supporter  of  her  husband  under  mis- 
fortune, and  abiding  with  unshrinking  firmness  the  bitterest  blast 
of  adversity. 

Cf)e  WML  —  Skakspeare. 

"yALUE  dwells  not  in  particular  will ; 

It  holds  its  estimate  and  Dignity 
As  well  wherein  'tis  precious  of  itself, 
As  in  the  prizer  :  'tis  mad  Idolatry, 
To  make  the  service  greater  than  the  God  ; 
And  the  Will  dotes,  that  is  inclinable 
To  what  infectiously  itself  affects, 
Without  some  Image  of  th'  affected  merit. 
I  take  to-day  a  wife,  and  my  election 
Is  led  on  in  the  conduct  of  my  Will ; 
My  Will  enkindled  by  mine  eyes  and  ears, 
Two  traded  pilots  'twixt  the  dangerous  shores 
Of  Will  and  Judgment :  how  may  I  avoid 
(Although  my  Will  distaste  which  is  elected) 
The  wife  I  chose  ?  there  can  be  no  evasion 
To  blench  from  this,  and  to  stand  firm  by  honour. 
We  turn  not  back  the  silks  upon  the  Merchant, 
When  we  have  spoil'd  them ;  nor  the  remainder  viands 
We  do  not  throw  in  unrespective  place, 
Because  we  now  are  full. 

2H)e  OMUL  —  Seneca. 

AJO  action  will  be  considered  as  blameless,  unless  the  Will  was 
so,  for  by  the  Will  the  Act  was  dictated. 


/ 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  539 

<HfK  ZMUL  —  Shakspeare. 
He  wants  Wit,  that  wants  resolved  Will. 

Cf)£  <LWMl.  —  Shakspeare. 

OUR  bodies  are  our  gardens ;  to  the  which  our  Wills  are  Gar- 
deners; so  that  if  we  will  plant  nettles,  or  sow  lettuce;  set 
hyssop,  and  weed  up  thyme  ;  supply  it  with  one  gender  of  herbs, 
or  distract  it  with  many  ;  either  to  have  it  sterile  with  Idleness,  or 
manured  with  Industry  ;  why,  the  power  and  corrigible  authority 
of  this  lies  in  our  Wills.  If  the  balance  of  our  lives  had  not  o~je 
scale  of  Reason  to  poise  another  of  Sensuality,  the  Blood  and  base- 
ness of  our  Natures  would  conduct  us  to  most  preposterous  conclu- 
sions. 

Ci)e  OMUL  — Fuller. 
"PRESCRIBE  no  positive  laws  to  thy  Will :  for  thou  mayest  be 
forced  to-morrow  to  drink  the  same  Water  thou  despisest  to- 
day. 

Cf)*  ftHtll.  —  Colton. 
T'O  commit  the  execution  of  a  purpose  to  one  who  disapproves 
of  the  plan  of  it,  is  to  employ  but  one-third  of  the  man;  his 
Heart  and  his  Head  are  against  you,  you  have  commanded  only 
his  Hands. 

£f)£  32StiL  —  Shakspeme. 

The  Will  of  man  is  by  his  Reason  sway'd. 

CJ)e  SSlttL—  Dryden. 

T  ET  Fortune  empty  her  whole  quiver  on  me. 

I  have  a  Soul,  that  like  an  ample  shield, 
Can  take  in  all,  and  verge  enough  for  more  ; 
Fate  was  not  mine,  nor  am  I  Fate's : 
Souls  know  no  Conquerors. 

,-fFree  ZWiill.  —  Milton. 

(yOD  made  thee  perfect,  not  immutable  ; 

And  good  he  made  thee,  but  to  persevere 
He  left  it  in  thy  pow'r;  ordained  thy  will 
By  nature  free,  not  over-ruled  by  Fate 
Inextricable,  or  strict  Necessity. 

jfm  82Ettl.  —MUton. 

Ingrate,  he  had  of  me 
All  he  could  have;  I  made  him  just  and  right, 
Sufficient  to  have  stood,  though  free  to  fall. 
Such  I  created  all  th'  ethereal  Powers 
And  Spirits,  both  them  who  stood  and  them  who  fail'd; 
Freely  they  stood  who  stood,  and  fell  who  fell. 
2  v2 


540  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

jftn  WML  — Milton. 
QUR  voluntary  service  He  requires, 

Not  our  necessitated  ;  such  with  Him 
Finds  no  acceptance,  nor  can  find ;  for  how 
Can  Hearts,  not  free,  be  tried  whether  they  serve 
Willing  or  no,  who  will  but  what  they  must 
By  Destiny,  nor  can  no  other  choose  ? 

ifttafthtg  a  W^ML  —  Osborne. 
\\THAT  you  leave  at  your  Death,  let  it  be  without  controversy, 
else  the  Lawyers  will  be  your  heirs. 

OTltnttfallS.  —Horace. 
You  do  not  value  it  greatly,  because  it  came  by  Accident. 

&Ht'ntJ0  aittJ  W8L8hz%.  —  SIiakspeare. 

This  Battle  fares  like  to  the  Morning's  war. 
When  dying  Clouds  contend  with  growing  Light; 
What  time  the  Shepherd,  blowing  of  his  nails, 
Can  neither  call  it  perfect  Day  nor  Night. 
Now  sways  it  this  way,  like  a  mighty  Sea 
Forced  by  the  tide  to  combat  with  the  Wind  : 
Now  sways  it  that  way,  like  the  self-same  Sea 
Forced  to  retire  by  fury  of  the  Wind. 
Sometime,  the  Flood  prevails;  and  then,  the  Wind; 
Now,  one  the  better  ;   then,  another  best; 
Both  tugging  to  be  Victors,  breast  to  breast, 
Yet  neither  conqueror,  nor  conquer' d ; 
So  is  the  equal  poise  of  this  fell  War. 

^Mim.  — Milton. 

One  sip  of  this 
Will  bathe  the  drooping  Spirits  in  delight 
Beyond  the  bliss  of  dreams.     Be  wise,  and  taste. 

fflJtne*  —  Shakspeare. 
Good  Wine  is  a  good  familiar  Creature,  if  it  be  well  used. 

WRinttt.  —  Spenser. 
T  ASTLY  came  Winter,  cloathed  all  in  frize, 

Chattering  his  teeth  for  cold  that  did  him  chill ; 
Whilst  on  his  hoary  Beard  his  breath  did  freeze, 

And  the  dull  drops  that  from  his  purple  bill 

As  from  a  limbeck  did  adown  distill ; 
In  his  right  hand  a  tipped  Staffe  he  held, 

With  which  his  feeble  steps  he  stayed  still, 
For  he  was  faint  with  Cold  and  weak  with  eld, 
That  scarce  his  loosed  limbes  he  able  was  to  weld. 


OR,   TIIIXGS   NEW   AXD    OLD.  541 

SHwfoOttt.— Shakspeare. 

To  Wisdom  he's  a  Fool  that  will  not  yield. 

3l2EfetoMtt.—  Colton. 

'THERE  is  this  difference  between  Happiness  and  Wisdom :  he 
that  thinks  himself  the  happiest  man,  really  is  so;  but  he  that 
thinks  himself  the  wisest,  is  generally  the  greatest  Fool. 

gKE&tott! Hare. 

'THE  intellect  of  the  wise  is  like  glass :  it  admits  the  Light  of 
Heaven,  and  reflects  it. 

£Ot£rtJ0m\—  Anon. 
"WISDOM  is  Alchemy.  Else  it  could  not  be  Wisdom.  This  is 
its  unfailing  characteristic,  that  it  "  finds  good  in  every  thing/' 
that  it  renders  all  things  more  precious.  In  this  respect  also  does 
it  renew  the  spirit  of  Childhood  within  us  :  while  Foolishness 
hardens  our  hearts,  and  narrows  our  thoughts,  it  makes  us  feel  a 
childlike  curiosity  and  a  childlike  interest  about  all  things.  When 
our  view  is  confined  to  ourselves,  nothing  is  of  value,  except  what 
ministers  in  one  way  or  other  to  our  own  personal  Gratification  :  but 
in  proportion  as  it  widens,  our  sympathies  increase  and  multiply  : 
and  wThen  we  have  learnt  to  look  on  all  things  as  God's  works,  then, 
as  His  works,  they  are  all  endeared  to  us.  Hence  nothing  can  be 
further  from  true  Wisdom,  than  the  mask  of  it  assumed  by  Men  of 
the  World,  who  affect  a  cold  indifference  about  whatever  does  not 
belong  to  their  own  immediate  circle  of  Interests  or  Pleasures. 

££ltStlOm\  —  La  Rochefovcaidd. 
It  is  more  easy  to  be  Wise  for  others  than  for  ourselves. 

g^tStlOm.  —  From  the  French. 
'THE  strongest  symptom  of  Wisdom  in  man,  is  his  being  sensible 
of  his  own  Follies. 

fcHtSu-Crn.  —  Terence. 
Y^ISDOM  consists,  not  in  seeing  what  is  directly  before  us,  but 
in  discerning  those  things  which  may  come  to  pass. 

TOfrSu'Om.  —  Pliny. 
No  man  is  at  all  times  wise. 

££ttS*!0m.  —  Gnjmestone. 
T^ISDOM  is  the  olive  that  springeth  from  the  Heart,  bloometh 
on  the  Tongue,  and  beareth  fruit  in  the  Actions. 

ZMiZtWm.  —  From  the  Latin. 
TTE  is  by  no  means  to  be  considered  wise,  who  is  not  wise  toward 
himself. 


542  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF  TRUTH; 

3i2ftKto<mt;—  Cotton. 

npHE  Wise  Man  has  his  follies,  no  less  than  the  Fool;  but  it  has 
been  said,  that  herein  lies  the  difference, — the  follies  of  the 
Fool  are  known  to  the  World,  but  are  hidden  from  himself;  the 
follies  of  the  Wise  are  known  to  himself,  but  hidden  from  the 
World.  A  harmless  hilarity  and  a  buoyant  cheerfulness  are  not 
unfrequent  concomitants  of  Genius;  and  we  are  never  more  de- 
ceived, than  when  we  mistake  Gravity  for  Greatness,  Solemnity  for 
Science,  and  Pomposity  for  Erudition. 

(HWLW^m.—Boileau. 
The  Wisest  Man  is  generally  he  who  thinks  himself  the  least  so. 

fflMuftOttt.—  Fuller. 

If  thou  wouldst  be  borne  with,  bear  with  others. 

fcSltgtJOm.  —  Tillotson. 
'TRUE  Wisdom  is  a  thing  very  extraordinary.      Happy  are  they 
that  have  it :  and  next  to  them,  not  those  many  that  think  they 
have  it,  but  those  few  that  are  sensible  of  their  own  defects  and 
imperfections,  and  know  that  they  have  it  not. 

(OTtSfoOm.  —  Chesterfield. 
"VOTING-  men  are  as  apt  to  think  themselves  wise  enough,  as 
drunken  men  are  to  think  themselves  sober  enough.  They 
look  upon  Spirit  to  be  a  much  better  thing  than  Experience; 
which  they  call  Coldness.  They  are  but  half  mistaken  ;  for  though 
Spirit  without  Experience  is  dangerous,  Experience  without  Spirit 
is  languid  and  ineffective. 

SSEuftOttU—  Gibson. 

TT  is  usually  seen,  that  the  wiser  men  are  about  the  things  of  this 
world,  the  less  wise  they  are  about  the  things  of  the  next. 

&2Htt  —  From,  the  French. 
\\riT  resembles  a  Coquette;    those  who  the  most  eagerly  run 
after  it  are  the  least  favoured. 

515Ett. — Johnson. 
\\7TT  will  never  make  a  man  rich,  but  there  are  places  where 
Riches  will  always  make  a  Wit. 

W&rit  —  Osborn. 

T  ET  your  Wit  rather  serve  you  for  a  buckler  to  defend  yourself, 
by  a  handsome  reply,  than  the  Sword  to  wound  others,  though 
with  never  so  facetious  a  Reproach,  remembering  that  a  Word 
cuts  deeper  than  a  sharper  weapon,  and  the  Wound  it  makes  is 
longer  curing 


OR,   THIXG  S   NEW  AXD    OLD.  543 


ZZAit—  South. 
A  S  the  repute  of  Wisdom,  so  that  of  Wit  also,  is  very  casual. 
Sometimes  a  lucky  saying  or  a  pertinent  reply  has  procured 
an  esteem  of  Wit  to  persons  otherwise  very  shallow ;  so  that,  if 
such  a  one  should  have  the  ill  hap  to  strike  a  man  dead  with  a 
smart  saying,  it  ought  in  all  Reason  and  Conscience  to  be  judged 
but  a  chance-medley.  Nay,  even  when  there  is  a  real  stock  of  Wit, 
yet  the  wittiest  sayings  and  sentences  will  be  found  in  a  great 
measure  the  issues  of  chance,  and  nothing  else  but  so  many  lucky 
hits  of  a  roving  Fancy.  For  consult  the  acutest  Poets  and 
Speakers  ;  and  they  will  confess  that  their  quickest  and  most 
admired  conceptions  were  such  as  darted  into  their  minds  like 
sudden  flashes  of  Lightning,  they  knew  not  how  nor  whence;  and 
not  by  any  certain  consequence  or  dependence  of  one  thought 
upon  another. 

ZZXU.  —  La  Bruyere. 
Wit  is  the  god  of  moments,  but  Genius  is  the  god  of  ages. 

if  Z lit.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
A  man  does  not  please  long  when  he  has  only  one  species  of  Wit. 

(TiLltt.  — Zimmerman. 
VTANY  species    of   Wit  are   quite    mechanical  :    these  are  the 
favourites  of  witlings,  whose  Fame  in  words  scarce  outlives 
the  remembrance  of  their  funeral  Ceremonies. 

£2  ttt.  —  Lavater. 
HPHE  proverbial  wisdom  of  the  Populace  at  gates,  on  roads,  and 
in  markets,  instructs  the  attentive  ear  of  him  who  studies  Man. 
more  fully  than  a  thousand  rules  ostentatiously  arranged. 

fflJEtt.  —  Sir  Thomas  Ocerbury. 
\VIT   is    brush-wood,   Judgment    timber  :    the   one    gives    the 
greatest  Flame,  the  other  yields  the  durablest  Heat;  and  both 
meeting  make  the  best  Fire. 

££lit.  —  From  the  Latin. 
YVTITICISMS    never    are    agreeable,    which    are    injurious    to 
others. 

ZZXit,—Anon. 
YirHAT  a  dull,  plodding,  tramping,  clanking  would  the  ordinary 
intercourse  of  Society  be,  without  Wit  to  enliven  and 
brighten  it !  When  two  men  meet,  they  seem  to  be  kept  at  bay 
through  the  estranging  effects  of  Absence,  until  some  sportive  sally 
opens  their  hearts  to  each  other.  Nor  does  any  thing  spread  cheer- 
fulness  so  rapidly  over  a  whole  party,  or  an  assembly   of  people 


544  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

however  large.  Reason  expands  the  soul  of  the  philosopher  j  Ima- 
gination glorifies  the  poet,  and  breathes  a  breath  of  Spring  through 
the  young  and  genial :  but,  if  we  take  into  account  the  numberless 
glances  and  gleams  whereby  Wit  lightens  our  every-day  life,  I 
hardly  know  what  power  ministers  so  bountifully  to  the  innocent 
pleasures  of  Mankind. 

(OTomatt.  —  Shakspeare. 
The  venom  clamours  of  a  jealous  Woman 
Poison  more  deadly  than  a  mad  dog's  tooth. 

^Moman.—Anon. 

"VyHEN  a  Maiden  is  too  forward,  her  admirer  deems  it  time  to 
draw  back. 

Moman.  —  Shakspeare. 
Proper  Deformity  seems  not  in  the  Fiend 
So  horrid,  as  in  Woman. 

QMtimm.  — Fuller. 
TF  thou  wouldest  please  the  Ladies,  thou  must  endeavour  to  make 
them  pleased  with  themselves. 

TOJOtttan.  —  Shakspeare. 
How  easy  is  it  for  the  proper-false 
In  Women's  waxen  hearts  to  set  their  forms  ! 

S&tOman.  —  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
XT  AVE  ever  more  care  that  thou  be  beloved  of  thy  Wife,  rather 
than  thyself  besotted  on  her:  and  thou  shalt  judge  of  her 
Love  by  these  two  observations  :  First,  if  thou  perceive  she  have 
a  care  of  thy  Estate,  and  exercise  herself  therein  :  the  other,  if  she 
study  to  please  thee,  and  be  sweet  unto  thee  in  Conversation,  with- 
out thy  instruction ;  for  Love  needs  no  teaching,  nor  precept. 

TOinmaiT.  _  Juvenal. 

Few  disputes  exist  which  have  not  had  their  origin  from  Woman.' 

&2Hnman.  _  Coiton. 

T\TOMEN  do  not  like  a  Man  the  worse  for  having  many  favour- 
ites, if  he  deserts  them  all  for  her;  she  fancies  that  she  her- 
self has  the  power  of  fixing  the  wanderer;  that  other  Women  con- 
quer like  the  Parthians,  but  that  she  herself,  like  the  Romans, 
can  not  only  make  conquests,  but  retain  them. 

2Momatt.  —  From  the  French. 
TyTTHOUT  Woman  the  two  extremities  of  this  Life  would  be 
destitute   of   succour,  and   the   middle   would  be   devoid  of 
Pleasure. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  545 

92&0matt.  —  Skakspeare. 

Women  are  as  Roses ;  whose  fair  flower, 
Being  once  display'd,  doth  fall  that  very  hour. 

<L£tmnan.  —  Skakspeare. 
Men  have  marble,  Women  waxen,  minds, 

And  therefore  are  they  form'd  as  marble  will ; 
The  weak  oppress'd,  the  impression  of  strange  kinds 

Is  form'd  in  them  by  Force,  by  Fraud,  or  Skill; 

Then  call  them  not  the  authors  of  their  ill, 
No  more  than  Wax  shall  be  accounted  evil, 
Wherein  is  stamp'd  the  semblance  of  a  Devil. 

Their  smoothness,  like  a  goodly  champaign  plain, 
Lays  open  all  the  little  worms  that  creep; 

In  Men,  as  in  a  rough-grown  grove,  remain 
Cave-keeping  evils  that  obscurely  sleep : 
Through  crystal  walls  each  little  mote  will  peep : 
Though  Men  can  cover  crimes  with  bold  stern  looks, 
Poor  Women's  faces  are  their  own  faults'  books. 

No  men  inveigh  against  the  wither' d  flower, 
But  chide  rough  Winter  that  the  flower  hath  kill'd ! 

Not  that  devour'd,  but  that  which  doth  devour, 
Is  worthy  blame.     Oh,  let  it  not  be  held 
Poor  Women's  faults,  that  they  are  so  fulfill'd 
With  men's  abuses :  those  proud  lords,  to  blame, 
Make  weak-made  Women  tenants  to  their  Shame. 

WXomm.— Skakspeare. 
A    WOMAN  moved,  is  like  a  Fountain  troubled, 
Muddy,  ill-seeming,  thick,  bereft  of  Beauty; 
And  while  it  is  so,  none  so  dry  or  thirsty 
Will  deign  to  sip,  or  touch  one  drop  of  it. 

Moman.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
"VITOMEN  never  have  a  complete  severity  of  Demeanour  except 
toward  those  whom  they  dislike. 

&3i0matt.  —  Cotton. 
PLEASURE  is  to  Women  what  the  Sun  is  to  the  Flower;  if 
moderately  enjoyed,  it  beautifies,  it  refreshes,  and  it  improves; 
if  immoderately,  it  withers,  etiolates,  and  destroys. 

OTlomatt.  —  Skakspeare. 
'THE  hand  that  hath  made  you  fair,  hath  made  you  good :  the 
Goodness,  that  is  cheap  in  Beauty,  makes  Beauty  brief  in  good- 
ness; but  Grace,  being  the  Soul  of  your  complexion,  should  keep 
the  body  of  it  ever  fair. 


riG  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

TOomatt.  —  Coiton. 

"YTOST  Females  will  forgive  a  Liberty,  rather  than  a  Slight;  and 
if  any  Woman  were  to  hang  a  man  for  stealing  her  picture, 
although  it  were  set  in  gold,  it  would  be  a  new  case  in  Law ;  but 
if  he  carried  off  the  Setting,  and  left  the  Portrait,  I  would  not 
answer  for  his  safety. 

<Jl2aomait.  —  Shakspeare. 
T  AM  ashamed,  that  Women  are  so  simple 

To  offer  War  where  they  should  kneel  for  Peace ; 
Or  seek  for  Rule,  Supremacy,  and  Sway, 
When  they  are  bound  to  serve,  love,  and  obey. 
Why  are  our  bodies  soft,  and  weak  and  smooth, 
Unapt  to  toil  and  trouble  in  the  World ; 
But  that  our  soft  conditions  and  our  Hearts, 
Should  well  agree  with  our  external  parts? 

fcSJoman.  —  Coiton. 

rFHE  Women  are  satisfied  with  less  than  the  Men ;  and  yet,  not- 
withstanding this,  they  are  less  easily  satisfied.  In  the  first 
place — Preference  and  Precedence  are  indispensable  articles  with 
them,  if  we  would  have  our  favours  graciously  received;  they  look 
moreover  to  the  mode,  the  mauner,  and  the  address,  rather  than  to 
the  value  of  the  obligation,  and  estimate  it  more  by  the  time,  the 
cost,  and  the  trouble  we  may  have  expended  upon  it,  than  by  its 
intrinsic  worth.  Attention  is  ever  current  coin  with  the  Ladies, 
and  they  weigh  the  Heart  much  more  scrupulously  than  the  Hand. 

$2HomaTt.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
XyOMEN  can  less  easily  surmount  their  Coquetry  than  their 
Passions. 

OTomaU,  —  Steele. 
TF  we  were  to  form  an  image  of  dignity  in  a  Man,  we  should  give 
him  Wisdom  and  Valour,  as  being  essential  to  the  character  of 
manhood.  In  the  like  Manner,  if  you  describe  a  right  Woman  in 
a  laudable  sense,  she  should  have  gentle  Softness,  tender  Fear,  and 
all  those  parts  of  life  which  distinguish  her  from  the  other  sex ; 
with  some  subordination  to  it,  but  such  an  Inferiority  that  makes 
her  still  more  lovely. 

Momatt.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
THERE  can  be  no  regulation  in  the  Minds  nor  in  the  Hearts  of 
Women,  unless  their  temperament  is  in  unison  with  it. 

Wfomm.:-*  Addison. 

A    VIRTUOUS  mind  in  a  fair  body  is  indeed  a  fine  Picture  in  a 
good  light,  and  therefore  it  is  no  wonder  that  it  makes  the 
beautiful  Sex  all  over  charms. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  547 

O^Omatt.  —  Shakspeare. 

JF  two  Gods  should  play  some  heavenly  match, 

And  on  the  wager  lay  two  earthly  Women, 
And  Portia  one,  there  must  be  something  else 
Pawn'd  with  the  other  j  for  the  poor  rude  world 
Hath  not  her  fellow. 

SHoman,  —  Coiton. 

'yyOMEN  that  are  the  least  bashful  are  not  unfrequently  the  most 
modest;  and  we  are  never  more  deceived,  than  when  we  would 
infer  any  laxity  of  Principle,   from  that  freedom   of  Demeanour 
which  often  arises  from  a  total  ignorance  of  Vice. 

ftSJOtnail.  —  Shakspeare. 
Where  is  any  Author  in  the  world, 
Teaches  such  beauty  as  a  Woman's  eye  ? 

ftSJoman.  —  SJiakspeare. 
She  is  peevish,  sullen,  froward, 
Proud,  disobedient,  stubborn,  lacking  duty; 
Neither  regarding  that  she  is  my  child, 
Nor  fearing  me  as  if  I  were  her  Father. 

Q&tOtttaiU— Addison. 

Widows  are  the  great  game  of  Fortune-Hun ters. 

%&*0man.  —  Herder. 
J^AST  among  the  characteristics  of  Woman,  is  that  sweet  motherly 
Love  with  which  Nature  has  gifted  her;  it  is  almost  independent 
of  cold  Reason,  and  wholly  removed  from  all  selfish  hope  of  reward. 
Not  because  it  is  lovely,  does  the  Mother  love  her  Child,  but 
because  it  is  a  living  part  of  herself, — the  Child  of  her  Heart,  a 
fraction  of  her  own  nature.  Therefore  do  her  entrails  yearn  over 
his  wailings;  her  Heart  beats  quicker  at  his  joy  ;  her  blood  flows 
more  softly  through  her  veins,  when  the  Breast  at  which  he  drinks 
knits  him  to  her.  In  every  uncorrupted  nation  of  the  earth,  this 
feeling  is  the  same;  climate,  which  changes  every  thing  else,  changes 
not  that. — It  is  only  the  most  corrupting  forms  of  society  which 
have  power  gradually  to  make  luxurious  Vice  sweeter  than  the 
tender  cares  and  soils  of  Maternal  Love. 

OJOtlUm.  —  Shakspeare. 

Constant  you  are; 
But  yet  a  Woman ;  and  for  secrecy, 
No  lady  closer ;  for  I  well  believe, 
Thou  wilt  not  utter  what  thou  dost  not  know; 
And  so  far  will  I  trust  thee. 
2  W 


54b  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

Wiom an.  —  Sir  Roger  V Estrange. 
TTE  that  contemns  a  Shrew  to  the  degree  of  not  descending  to 
word  it  with  her,  does  worse  than  beat  her. 

SHomatl*  —  Addison. 

"^"OTHING  makes  a  Woman  more  esteemed  by  the  opposite  sex 
than  Chastity  ;  whether  it  be  that  we  always  prize  those  most 
who  are  hardest  to  come  at,  or,  that  nothing  besides  Chastity,  with 
its  collateral  attendants,  Truth,  Fidelity,  and  Constancy,  gives  the 
man  a  property  in  the  person  he  loves,  and  consequently  endears 
her  to  him  above  all  thiugs. 

MJnman.  _  Spemer. 
'TRUST  not  the  Treason  of  those  smiling  looks, 
Until  ye  have  their  guileful  trains  well  trode, 
For  they  are  like  unto  golden  hooks, 
That  from  the  foolish  Fish  their  bates  do  hide. 

QWlOmaVl.  —  Greville. 
TT  is  perhaps  true,  that  Women  generally  come  into   life  with 
higher  ideas  of  Delicacy  than  Men;  but  I  believe  it  true  also, 
that  they  generally  retire  from  Life  with  lower. 

£2ii01ttatt.  —  Shakspeare. 
Her  Voice  was  ever  soft, 
Gentle  and  low;  an  excellent  thing  in  Woman. 

ftStOmatt.  —  Greville. 
T  HAVE  often  thought  that  the  nature  of  Women  was  inferior  to 
that  of  Men  in  general,  but  superior  in  particular. 

2i®lomatU— Shakspeare. 

I  never  yet  saw  Man, 
How  wise,  how  noble,  young,  how  rarely  featured, 
But  she  would  spell  him  backward  :  if  fair-faced, 
She'd  swear,  the  Gentleman  should  be  her  sister; 
If  black,  why,  Nature,  drawing  of  an  antic, 
Made  a  foul  blot;  if  tall,  a  lance  ill-headed; 
If  low,  an  aglet  very  vilely  cut ; 
If  speaking,  why,  a  vane  blown  with  all  winds  ; 
If  silent,  why,  a  block  moved  with  none. 
So  turns  she  every  Man  the  wrong  side  out, 
And  never  gives  to  Truth  and  Virtue  that 
Which  Simpleness  and  Merit  purchaseth. 

3t2£tOm&tt,  —  Tom  Brown. 
A    WOMAN  may  learn  one  useful  doctrine  from  the   game  oi 
Backgammon,  which  is,  not  to  take  up  her  Man  till  she's  surf 
of  binding  him. 


OR,   THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD.  549 

<&2Homatt.  —  Shakspeare. 
"VTISTRESS,  know  yourself;  down  on  yourjmees, 

And  thank  Heaven,  fasting,  for  a  good  man's  Love; 
For  I  must  tell  you  friendly  in  your  ear, 
Sell  when  you  can ;  you  are  not  for  all  markets. 

&£loman.  —  Rousseau. 
HTHE  World  is  the  book  of  Women.     Whatever  knowledge  they 
may  possess  is  more  commonly  acquired  by  observation  thau 
by  Heading. 

£230man.  —  Shakspeare. 
"VfAKE  the  doors  upon  a  Woman's  wit,  and  it  will  out  at  the 
Casement;  shut  that,  and  'twill  out  at  the  Key-hole  ;  stop 
that,  'twill  fly  with  the  smoke  out  at  the  Chimney. 

£23oman.  —  Shakspeare. 

Sha'll  not  be  hit 
With  Cupid's  arrow  ;  she  hath  Dian's  wit : 
And,  in  strong  proof  of  Chastity  well  arm'd, 
From  Love's  weak  childish  bow,  she  lives  unharm'd. 
She  will  not  stay  the  siege  of  loving  terms, 
Nor  bide  th'  Encounter  of  assailing  eyes, 
Nor  ope  her  lap  to  saint-seducing  Gold. 

£<Ltuman.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
"YKTHAT  causes  the  majority  of  Women  to  be  so  little  touched 
by  Friendship  is,  that  it  is  insipid  when  they  have  once  tasted 
of  Love. 

££10man.  —  Shakspeare. 
CHE  is  of  so  free,  so  kind,  so  apt,  so  blessed  a  Disposition,  she 
holds  it  a  Vice  in  her  Goodness  not  to  do  more  than  she  is  re- 
quested. 

In  any  honest  suit,  she's  framed  as  fruitful 
As  the  free  Elements. 

%&aman.*-GreviUe. 

ATODESTY  in  Woman,  say  some  shrewd  Philosophers,  is    not 
natural:  it  is  artificial  and  acquired;  but  what  then,  and  tc 
what    end,  is    that   natural  Taste,  that   delicate    Sensation,   that 
Approbation  of  it,  in  Man  ? 

££loman.  —  Shakspeare. 
^HE  hath  all  courtly  parts  more  exquisite, 

Than  lady,  ladies,  Woman  ;  from  every  one 
The  best  she  hath,  and  she,  of  all  compounded, 
Outsells  them  all. 


650  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF   TRUTH; 

OUomatt.—  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
A  WOMAN'S  Head  is  usually  over  ears  in  her  Heart.  Man 
seems  to  have  been  designed  for  the  superior  being  of  the  two; 
but  as  things  are,  I  think  Women  are  generally  better  Creatures 
than  Men.  They  have,  taken  universally,  weaker  appetites  and 
weaker  intellects,  but  they  have  much  stronger  Affections.  A  man 
with  a  bad  Heart  has  been  sometimes  saved  by  a  strong  Head;  but 
a  corrupt  Woman  is  lost  for  ever. 

&&toman.  —  Shakspeare. 
All  of  her,  that  is  out  of  door  most  rich, 
If  she  be  furnish'd  with  a  mind  so  rare, 
She  is  alone  the  Arabian  bird. 

ftOoman,—  Cotton. 

A    BEAUTIFUL  Woman,  if  poor,  should  use  double  circumspec- 
tion; for  her  Beauty  will  tempt  others,  her  Poverty  herself. 

QMomm.  —  Shakspeare. 
She's  a  lady 
So  tender  of  Rebukes,  that  words  are  strokes, 
And  strokes  Death  to  her. 

WRdXtim.  —  Shakspeare. 

All  that  life  can  rate 
Worth  name  of  life,  in  thee  hath  estimate : 
Youth,  Beauty,  Wisdom,  Courage,  Virtue,  all 
That  Happiness  and  prime  can  happy  call. 

&2E0tnatt.  —  La  Rochefoucauld. 
QOQUETTES  make  a  merit  of  being  jealous  of  their  Lovers,  to 
conceal  their  being  envious  of  other  Women. 

fflJomatt.  —  Shakspeare. 
T?OR  she  is  wise,  if  I  can  judge  of  her ; 

And  fair  she  is,  if  that  mine  Eyes  be  true; 
And  true  she  is,  as  she  hath  proved  herself; 
And  therefore  like  herself,  wise,  fair,  and  true, 
Shall  she  be  placed  in  my  constant  Soul. 

<H2!luman.  —  Shakspeare. 
Fear  and  Niceness, 
The  handmaids  of  all  Women,  or  more  truly, 
Woman  its  pretty  Self. 

2Muman\  —  Shakspeare. 
If  Ladies  be  but  young  and  fair, 
They  have  the  Gift  to  know  it. 

<£2i0inatt.  —  From  the  Italian. 
A  beautiful  Woman  by  her  smiles  draws  tears  from  our  purse. 


OR,   THINGS    NEW  AND    OLD.  551 

S5Ioman.  —  Shakspeare. 
Kindness  in  Women,  not  their  beauteous  looks, 
Shall  win  my  Love. 

W&Wam.-- Steele. 

IJE  that  can  keep  handsomely  within  rules,  and  support  the  Car- 
riage of  a  Companion  to  his  Mistress,  is  much  more  likely  to 
prevail,  than  he  who  lets  her  see  the  whole  relish  of  his  Life  de- 
pends upon  her.  If  possible,  therefore,  divert  your  Mistress  rather 
than  sigh  for  her. 

SHoman.  —  Shakspeare. 
Dumb  jewels  often,  in  their  silent  kind, 
More  than  quick  words,  do  move  a  Woman's  mind. 

(SSJoman.  —  Simonides. 
A    MAN  cannot  possess  any  thing  that  is  better  than  a  good  Wo- 
man, nor  any  thing  that  is  worse  than  a  bad  one. 

W&Oman.  —  Lavater. 
She  neglects  her  Heart  who  studies  her  Glass. 

S&loman.  —  Epktetus. 

\\THEN  girls  are  grownup  they  begin  to  be  courted  and  caressed; 
then  they  think,  that  the  recommending  themselves  to  the 
affections  of  the  Men  is  the  only  business  they  have  to  attend  to, 
and  so  presently  fall  to  tricking,  and  dressing,  and  practising  all 
the  little  engaging  Arts  peculiar  to  their  Sex.  In  these  they  place 
all  their  hopes,  as  they  do  all  their  Happiness  in  the  success  of 
them.  But  it  is  fit  they  should  be  given  to  understand,  that  there 
are  other  attractives  much  more  powerful  than  these ;  that  the  re- 
spect we  pay  them  is  not  due  to  their  Beauty,  so  much  as  to  their 
Modesty  and  Innocence,  and  unaffected  Virtue.  And  that  these 
are  the  true,  the  irresistible  charms,  such  as  will  make  the  surest 
and  most  lasting  Conquests. 

312Ioman.  —  Shakspeare. 
TIG  off  a  tune  at  the  Tongue's  end,  canary  to  it  with  your  feet, 
humour  it  with  turning  up  your  Eyelids;  sigh  a  note,  and  sing 
a  note ;  sometime  through  the  Throat,  as  if  you  swallowed  Love 
with  singing  Love ;  sometime  through  the  Nose,  as  if  you  snuffed 
up  Love  by  smelling  Love ; — and  keep  not  too  long  in  one  tune, 
but  a  snip  and  away  :  These  are  complements,  these  are  Humours ; 
these  betray  nice  wenches. 

&2aoman\  —  St.  Pierre. 

'THE  Christian  religion  alone  contemplates  the  conjugal  union  in 

the  order  of  Nature;   it  is  the   only  religion  which   presents 

Woman  to  Man  as  a  companion ;  every  other  abandons  her  to  him 

as  a  slave.     To  religion  alone  do  European  women  owe  the  liberty 

2  \v2 


552  ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   TRUTH; 

they  enjoy  :  and  from  the  liberty  of  Women  that  of  nations  has 
flowed,  accompanied  with  the  proscription  of  many  inhuman  usages 
diffused  over  all  the  other  parts  of  the  world,  such  as  Slavery,  Se- 
raglios, and  Eunuchs. 

W&Qman.  —  Shakspeare. 
'Tis  Beauty,  that  doth  oft  make  Women  proud; 
'Tis  Virtue,  that  doth  make  them  most  admired ; 
'Tis  Modesty,  that  makes  them  seem  divine. 

OTJoman.— Piautus. 

A  WOMAN'S  true  dowry,  in  my  opinion,  is  Virtue,  Modesty, 
and  Desires  restrained;  not  that  which  is  usually  so  called. 

(SHOIttatt*  —  Goldsmith. 
HPHE  modest  Virgin,  the  prudent  Wife,  or  the  careful  Matron, 
are  much  more  serviceable  in  life,  than  petticoated  Philosophers, 
blustering  Heroines,  or  virago  Queens.  She  who  makes  her  hus- 
band and  her  children  happy,  who  reclaims  the  one  from  Vice, 
and  trains  up  the  other  to  Virtue,  is  a  much  greater  character  than 
ladies  described  in  romance,  whose  whole  occupation  is  to  murder 
Mankind  with  shafts  from  their  quiver  or  their  eyes. 

(EHrjtnatt.  —  Shakspeare. 
A  Woman  impudent  and  mannish  grown 
Is  not  more  loath'd  than  an  effeminate  Man. 

<&2&Ciman.  —  Greville. 
\\TE  are  often  governed  by  people  not  only  weaker  than  ourselves, 
but  even  by  those  whom  we  think  so. 

MO  matt.  —  Sliakspeare. 

Disloyal?  No; 
She's  punish'd  for  her  Truth ;  and  undergoes, 
More  goddess-like  than  wife-like,  such  assaults 
As  would  take  in  some  Virtue. 

raomatt.—  Butler. 
VOU  wound  like  Parthians,  while  you  fly, 

And  kill  with  a  retreating  Eye ; 
Retire  the  more,  the  more  we  press, 
To  draw  us  into  Ambushes. 

MJoman.  —  Shakspeare. 
1  HAVE  those  hopes  of  her  good,  that  her  Education  promises : 
her  dispositions  she  inherits,  which  make  fair  gifts  fairer;  for 
•vhere  an  unclean  mind  carries  virtuous  Qualities,  there  commend- 
ations go  with  pity,  they  are  Virtues  and  Traitors  too ;  in  her,  they 
are  the  better  for  their  simpleness;  she  derives  her  Honesty,  and 
achieves  her  Goodness 


OR,    THINGS  NEW  AND    OLD.  553 

OUOtttan.  —  La  Bruyere. 
TyOMEN,  ever  in   extremes,  are  always  either  better  or  worse 
than  Men. 

<52fiCimatt.  —  Shakspeare. 
TTHOU  wilt  never  get  thee  a  Husband,  if  thou  be  so  shrewd  with 

thy  Tongue. 

&2Eoman.  —  Pope. 

A  ND  yet,  believe  me,  good  as  well  as  ill, 
Woman's  at  best  a  Contradiction  still. 
Heaven  when  it  strives  to  polish  all  it  can 
Its  last  best  work,  but  forms  a  softer  man ; 
Picks  from  each  Sex,  to  make  the  favourite  blest, 
Your  love  of  Pleasure,  our  desire  of  Rest. 
Blends,  in  exception  to  all  general  rules, 
Your  taste  of  Follies,  with  our  scorn  of  Fools; 
Reserve  with  Frankness,  Art  with  Truth  allied, 
Courage  with  Softness,  Modesty  with  Pride ; 
Fix'd  Principles,  with  Fancy  ever  new ; 
Shakes  all  together,  and  produces — You. 

OTioman.  —  Lyttelton. 
One  only  care  your  gentle  breasts  should  move, — 
Th'  important  bus'ness  of  your  life  is  Love. 

E2l0man.  —  Shakspeare. 
Who  might  be  your  Mother, 
That  you  insult,  exult,  and  all  at  once, 
Over  the  wretched?     What  though  you  have  more  Beauty, 
(As,  by  my  faith,  I  see  no  more  in  you 
Than  without  Candle  may  go  dark  to  bed,) 
Must  you  be  therefore  proud  and  pitiless  ? 

<S2l0tnan Shakspeare. 

ft  HE  speaks  Poniards,  and  every  word  stabs:  if  her  breath  were 
as  terrible  as  her  terminations,  there  were  no  living  near  her. 
She  would  infect  to  the  North  Star.  She  would  have  made  Her- 
cules have  turned  spit;  yea,  and  have  cleft  his  Club,  to  make  the 
Fire  too. 

(S&lOman.  —  Shakspeare. 
rrHE  tongues  of  mocking  Wenches  are  as  keen 

As  is  the  razor's  edge  invisible, 
Cutting  a  smaller  hair  than  may  be  seen ; 
Above  the  Sense  of  Sense :  so  sensible 
Seemeth  their  conference ;  their  conceits  have  wing9, 
Fleeter  than  Arrows,  Bullets,  Wind,  Thought,  swiffer  things. 


554  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

ffl&man.  —  Moore. 
"VET  was  there  light  around  her  brow, 

A  Holiness  in  those  dark  eyes, 
Which  show'd — though  wand'ring  earthward  now — 

Her  spirit's  home  was  in  the  skies. 
Yes — for  a  Spirit,  pure  as  hers, 
Is  always  pure,  even  while  it  errs  j 
As  Sunshine,  broken  in  the  rill, 
Though  turn'd  astray,  is  Sunshine  still ! 

M&Oman.—  Byron. 
GUCH  was  this  Daughter  of  the  southern  seas, 

Herself  a  billow  in  her  energies, 
To  bear  the  bark  of  others'  Happiness, 
Nor  feel  a  Sorrow  till  their  Joy  grew  less. 

WRomm.  — Moore. 
RAPTURED  he  quits  each  dozing  Sage, 

0  Woman !  for  thy  lovelier  page  ! 
Sweet  book  !  unlike  the  books  of  Art, 
Whose  errors  are  thy  fairest  part ; 
In  whom,  the  dear  Errata  column 
Is  the  best  page  in  all  the  Volume. 

SHOtttan.  —  ShaJcspeare. 
You  seem  to  me  as  Dian  in  her  orb ; 
As  chaste  as  is  the  bud  ere  it  be  blown. 

SHoman.  —  Lord  Lyttelton. 
GEEK  to  be  good,  but  aim  not  to  be  great; 

A  Woman's  noblest  station  is  Retreat ; 
Her  fairest  Virtues  fly  from  public  sight ; 
Domestic  worth, — that  shuns  too  strong  a  Light. 

W&Omm.  —  Moore. 
Q  WOMAN !  whose  form  and  whose  Soul 

Are  the  spell  and  the  Light  of  each  path  we  pursue 
Whether  sunn'd  in  the  Tropics,  or  chill'd  at  the  Pole, 

If  Woman  be  there,  there  is  happiness  too. 

WlQmm.  — Scott. 
TN  peasant  life  he  might  have  known 

As  fair  a  face,  as  sweet  a  tone ; 
But  Village  Notes  could  ne'er  supply 
That  rich  and  varied  melody ; 
And  ne'er  in  cottage  maid  was  seen 
The  easy  Dignity  of  Mien, 
Claiming  respect,  yet  waving  state, 
That  marks  the  Daughters  of  the  Great. 


0 R,   T II IX G  S  NE  W  A  XL    OLD.  555 

tSSHomatt.  —  Shakspeare. 
She  did  make  defect,  perfection, 
And,  breathless,  Power  breathe  forth. — 
Age  cannot  wither  her,  nor  Custom  stale 
Her  infinite  variety. 

MiOman,  —  Campbell. 
AND  say,  without  our  Hopes,  without  our  Fears, 

Without  the  Home  that  plighted  Love  endears, 
Without  the  Smile  from  partial  Beauty  won, 
Oh  !  what  were  Man  ! — a  World  without  a  Sun. 

W&  Oman.—  Byron. 
Soft  as  the  memory  of  buried  Love  ! 
Pure,  as  the  Prayer  which  Childhood  wafts  above ; 
Was  she. 

OTiomatt.  —  Shakspeare. 
'Tis  a  good  hearing,  when  Children  are  toward ; 
But  a  harsh  hearing,  when  Women  are  froward. 

Mloman.— Lamb. 

'THE  Fair  not  always  view  with  favouring  eyes 

The  very  virtuous  or  extremely  wise, 
But,  odd  it  seems,  will  sometimes  rather  take 
Want  with  the  Spendthrift,  riot  with  the  rake. 

TOOtttan.—  Byron. 
TTER  eye's  dark  charm  'twere  vain  to  tell, 

But  gaze  on  that  of  the  Gazelle, 
It  will  assist  thy  fancy  well, 
As  large,  as  languishingly  dark, 
But  Soul  beam'd  forth  in  every  spark 
That  darted  from  beneath  the  lid, 
Bright  as  the  jewel  of  Giamschid. 
Yea,  Soul,  and  should  our  Prophet  say 
That  form  was  naught  but  breathing  clay, 
By  Alia !  I  would  answer  nay. 

QWLOman.  —  Shakspeare. 
r)H,  what  a  Hell  of  witchcraft  lies 

In  the  small  orb  of  one  particular  Tear  ! 
But  with  the  Inundation  of  the  eyes 
WThat  rocky  Heart  to  water  will  not  wear  ? 
What  breast  so  cold  that  is  not  warmed  here  ? 
Oh,  cleft  effect !  cold  Modesty,  hot  Wrath, 
Both  fire  from  hence  and  chill  extincture  hath ! 


556  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

%M  Oman  —  Campbell. 
The  world  was  sad  ! — the  garden  was  a  wild  ! 
The  Man,  the  Hermit,  sigh'd — till  Woman  smiled. 

MiOman.  —  Shakspeare. 
She  will  outstrip  all  Praise, 
And  make  it  halt  behind  her. 

<!Moman.— Moore. 

~^"EW  Eves  in  all  her  daughters  came, 
As  strong  to  charm,  as  weak  to  err, 
As  sure  of  Man  through  praise  aud  blame, 
Whate'er  they  brought  him,  Pride  or  Shame, 
Their  still  unreasoning  Worshipper — 
And,  wheresoe'er  they  smiled,  the  same 
Enchantress  of  Soul  and  Frame, 
Into  whose  hands,  from  first  to  last, 
This  World  with  all  its  destinies, 
Devotedly  by  Heaven  seems  cast, 
To  save  or  damn  it,  as  they  please ! 

MJOtnaiL  —  Byron. 
l^AIR  as  the  first  that  fell  of  Womankind, 

When  on  that  dread  yet  lovely  Serpent  smiling; 
Whose  Image  then  was  stamp'd  upon  her  mind — 
But  once  beguiled — and  ever  more  beguiling. 

Mioman.  —  Scott. 

C\  WOMAN  !  in  our  hours  of  ease, 

Uncertain,  coy,  and  hard  to  please, 
And  variable  as  the  shade 
By  the  light  quivering  Aspen  made ; 
When  pain  and  anguish  wring  the  brow 
A  ministering  Angel  thou  ! 

<E2E0tnatt.  —  Shakspeare. 

She  cannot  love, 
Nor  take  no  shape  nor  project  of  Affection, 
She  is  so  self-endear' d. 

$Md  man,  —  Shakspeare. 
T^IE,  fie,  unknit  that  threat'ning  unkind  brow; 

And  dart  not  scornful  glances  from  those  eyes, 
To  wound  thy  Lord,  thy  King,  thy  Governor  : 
It  blots  thy  Beauty,  as  frosts  bite  the  meads ; 
Confounds  thy  Fame,  as  whirlwinds  shake  fair  buds ; 
And  in  no  sense  is  meet  or  amiable. 


OR,   THINGS  XEW  AXD    OLD.  55: 


Wlamm.— Joanna  BailUe. 
Zounds,  Lady  !  do  not  give  such  heavy  blows ; 
I'm  not  your  Husband,  as  belike  you  guess. 

QRHOman.  — Byron. 

The  very  first 
Of  human  Life  must  spring  from  Woman's  breast ; 
Your  first  small  words  are  taught  you  from  her  lips, 
Your  first  Tears  quench'd  by  her,  and  your  last  Sighs 
Too  often  breathed  out  in  a  Woman's  hearing, 
When  men  have  shrunk  from  the  ignoble  care 
Of  watching  the  last  Hour  of  him  who  led  them. 

H&OntaiU  —  Chapman. 

XTE  that  holds  religious  and  sacred  thoughts 
Of  a  Woman  ;  he  that  bears  so  reverend 
A  respect  to  her,  that  he  will  not  touch 
Her,  but  with  a  kiss'd  hand  and  timorous 
Heart ;  he  that  adores  her  like  his  Goddess, 
Let  him  be  sure  she'll  shun  him  like  her  Slave. 

ftSUrma*.  —  Shakspeare. 
"l^ROM  Women's  eyes  this  doctrine  I  derive  : 

They  sparkle  still  the  right  Promethean  fire ; 
They  are  the  Books,  the  Arts,  the  Academics, 
That  show,  contain,  and  nourish  all  the  World ; 
Else,  none  at  all  in  aught  proves  excellent. 

Wtoman.  —  Byron. 
What  they  ask  in  aught  that  touches  on 
The  Heart,  is  dearer  to  their  feeliugs  or 
Their  fancy,  than  the  whole  external  world. 

£<Lloman\  —  Shakspeare. 
Whose  warp'd  Looks  proclaim 
What  store  her  Heart  is  made  of. 

2  JLloman.  —  Shakspeare. 
TADY,  you  have  a  merry  heart.     *  *  *  Yea,  I  thank  it,  pooi 
Fool,  it  keeps  on  the  windy  side  of  Care. 

iL&loman.  —  Shakspeare. 
'THOU  shalt  be  punish'd  for  thus  frighting  me, 

For  I  am  sick,  and  capable  of  Fears ; 
Oppress'd  with  wrongs,  and  therefore  full  of  Fears; 
A  Widow,  husbandless,  subject  to  Fears ; 
A  Woman,  naturally  born  to  Fears ; 
And  though  thou  now  confess,  thou  did'st  but  jest, 
With  my  vex'd  Spirits  I  cannot  take  a  truce, 
But  they  will  quake  and  tremble  all  this  day. 


558  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

<L£toman.—  miton. 

For  Contemplation  he  and  Valour  forrn'd, 
For  Softness  she  and  sweet  attractive  Grace ; 
He  for  God  only,  she  for  God  in  him. 

OTiomait*  —  Thomson. 
HPO  train  the  Foliage  o'er  the  snowy  lawn  ; 

To  guide  the  pencil,  turn  the  tuneful  page ; 
To  lend  new  flavour  to  the  fruitful  year, 
And  heighten  Nature's  dainties ;  in  their  race 
To  rear  their  graces  into  second  Life ; 
To  give  Society  its  highest  taste ; 
Well-order'd  Home  Man's  best  delight  to  make; 
And  by  submissive  Wisdom,  modest  skill, 
With  every  gentle  care-eluding  art, 
To  raise  the  Virtues,  animate  the  Bliss, 
And  sweeten  all  the  toils  of  Human  Life  : 
This  be  the  female  Dignity  and  Praise. 

W&Oman.  —  Shakspeare. 

T  ET  them  anatomize  her;  see  what  breeds  about  her  Heart:  Is 

there  any  cause  in  Nature,  that  makes  these  hard  Hearts? 

&2£ontatt.—  Byron. 
OH  !  too  convincing — dangerously  dear — 

In  Woman's  eye  the  unanswerable  Tear ! 
That  weapon  of  her  weakness  she  can  wield 
To  save,  subdue — at  once  her  spear  and  shield ; 
Avoid  it — Virtue  ebbs  and  Wisdom  errs, 
Too  fondly  gazing  on  that  grief  of  hers  ! 
What  lost  a  World,  and  made  a  Hero  fly  ? 
The  timid  tear  in  Cleopatra's  eye. 
Yet  be  the  soft  triumvir's  fault  forgiven, 
By  this — how  many  lose  not  Earth — but  Heaven  ! 
Consign  their  souls  to  man's  eternal  Foe, 
And  seal  their  own  to  spare  some  Wanton's  wo ! 

fflloman.  —  Spenser. 
VE  gentle  Ladies  !  in  whose  soveraine  Powre 

Love  hath  the  glory  of  his  Kingdom  left, 
And  th'  Hearts  of  men,  as  your  eternall  dowre, 

In  yron  chaines  of  Liberty  bereft, 

Delivered  hath  unto  your  hands  by  gift, 
Be  well  aware  how  ye  the  same  doe  use, 

That  Pride  doe  not  to  Tyranny  you  lift, 
Least  if  men  you  of  cruelty  accuse, 
He  from  you  take  that  chiefdome  which  ye  doe  abuse. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW   AXD    OLD.  559 

££toman.  —  Shakspeare. 
T  GRANT,  I  am  a  Woman ;  but  withal, 

A  Woman  that  Lord  Brutus  took  to  wife  : 
I  grant,  I  am  a  Woman  ;  but  withal, 
A  Woman  well  reputed ;  Cato's  daughter. 
Think  you,  I  am  no  stronger  than  my  Sex, 
Being  so  father'd  and  so  husbanded  ? 

ZMb\m\\.  —  Lamb. 
CTILL  Woman  draws  new  pow'r,  new  empire,  still 

From  every  blessing  and  from  every  ill. 
Vice  on  her  Bosom  lulls  remorseful  Care, 
And  Virtue  hopes  congenial  Virtue  there. 
Still  she  most  hides  the  strength  that  most  subdues, 
To  gain  each  end,  its  opposite  pursues; 
Lures  by  Neglect,  advances  by  Delay, 
And  gains  command  by  swearing  to  obey. 

t&lomait.—  Byron. 
"RUT  she  was  a  soft  landscape  of  mild  earth, 

Where  all  was  Harmony,  and  Calm  and  Quiet, 
Luxuriant,  budding;  cheerful  without  mirth, 

Which  if  not  Happiness,  is  much  more  nigh  it 
Than  are  your  mighty  passions  and  so  forth, 

Which  some  call  "The  Sublime;"  I  wish  they'd  try  it: 
I've  seen  your  stormy  Seas  and  stormy  Women, 
And  pity  Lovers  rather  more  than  Seamen. 

©Saomaiu— Pope. 

TN  Men,  we  various  ruling  Passions  find ; 
In  Women,  two  almost  divide  the  kind : 
Those,  only  fix'd,  they  first  or  last  obey, 
The  love  of  Pleasure,  and  the  love  of  Sway. 

B3Etratan.--%nw». 

Maidens,  like  Moths,  are  caught  by  glare, 

And  Mammon  wins  his  way  where  Seraphs  might  despair. 

ZiUlOman.— Irving. 
AS  the  vine  which  has  long  twined  its  graceful  foliage  about  the 
oak,  and  been  lifted  by  it  into  sunshine,  will,  when  the  hardy 
plant  is  rifted  by  the  thunderbolt,  cling  round  it  with  its  caressing 
tendrils,  and  bind  up  its  shattered  boughs ;  so  it  is  beautifully  or- 
dered by  Providence,  that  Woman,  who  is  the  mere  dependant  and 
ornament  of  man  in  his  happier  hours,  should  be  his  stay  and  solace 
when  smitten  with  sudden  calamity;  winding  herself  into  the  rug- 
ged recesses  of  his  nature,  tenderly  supporting  the  drooping  head, 
and  binding  up  the  broken  heart. 

2  X 


560  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

ZZXQXbZ.  —  Lavater. 
T/"OLATILITY  of  Words  is  Carelessness  in  actions ;  Words  are 
the  wings  of  Actions. 

<&00b  Wlorftg.—  Fichte. 
^OT  alone  to  know,  but  to  act  according  to  thy  Knowledge,  is  thj 
destination  ;  proclaims  the  voice  of  my  inmost  Soul.  Not  for 
indolent  Contemplation  and  study  of  thyself,  nor  for  brooding  over 
emotions  of  Piety — no,  for  Action  was  existence  given  thee ;  thy 
Actions,  and  thy  Actions  alone,  determine  thy  worth. 

Cf)e  TOOtttl.  —  Johnson. 
'THOUGH  the  world  is  crowded  with  scenes  of  Calamity,  we  look 
upon  the  general  mass  of  Wretchedness  with  very  little  regard, 
and  fix  our  eyes  upon  the  state  of  particular  persons,  whom  the 
eminence  of  their  qualities  marks  out  from  the  Multitude ;  as,  in 
reading  an  account  of  a  battle,  we  seldom  reflect  on  the  vulgar 
heaps  of  Slaughter;  but  follow  the  Hero  with  our  whole  attention, 
through  all  the  varieties  of  his  Fortune,  without  a  thought  of  the 
Thousands  that  are  falling  round  him. 

Cf)e  fflJurO!.  —Shakspeare. 
THAT,  Sir,  which  serves  and  seeks  for  gain 

And  follows  but  for  form, 

Will  pack,  when  it  begins  to  rain, 

And  leave  thee  in  the  Storm. 

W§Z  ft^OtltU  —  Greville. 
THE  Great  see  the  World  at  one  end  by  Flattery,  the  Little  at 
the  other  end  by  Neglect ;  the  meanness  which  both  discover  is 
the  same ;  but   how    different,   alas !  are    the    mediums   through 
which  it  is  seen  ? 

Cf)e  OTcrnJ.  —  Fuller. 
TAKE  this  as  a  most  certain  expedient  to  prevent  many  Afflic- 
tions, and  to  be  delivered  from  them  :  meddle  as  little  with  the 
World,  and  the  Honours,  Places  and  Advantages  of  them,  as  thou 
canst.  And  extricate  thyself  from  them  as  much,  and  as  quickly 
as  possible. 

C|)e  WRfttlt!.— Shakspeare. 
You  have  too  much  respect  upon  the  World : 
They  lose  it,  that  do  buy  it  with  much  care. 

Cf)e  IMOtYlJ.— Mackenzie. 
r)ELUSIVE  ideas  are  the  motives  of  the  greatest  part  of  Man- 
kind, and  a  heated  Imagination  the  power  by  which  their  ac- 
tions are  incited  :  the  World,  in  the  eye  of  a  Philosopher,  may  be 
said  to  be  a  large  Madhouse. 


OR,   THINGS   NEW  AND    OLD.  561 

fTf>*  ZZUtltl.  —  B'jron. 
T  HAVE  not  loved  the  World,  nor  the  World  me; 

I  have  not  flatter'd  its  rank  breath,  nor  bow'd 
To  its  Idolatries  a  patient  knee, — 

Nor  coin'd  ray  cheeks  to  smiles, — nor  cried  aloud 

In  worship  of  an  echo ;  in  the  crowd 
They  could  not  deem  me  one  of  such ;  I  stood 

Among  them,  but  not  of  them  ;   in  a  shroud 
Of  Thoughts  which  were  not  their  thoughts,  and  still  could, 
Had  I  not  fill'd  my  mind,  which  thus  itself  subdued. 

I  have  not  loved  the  World,  nor  the  World  me, — 
But  let  us  part  fair  foes ;  I  do  believe, 

Though  I  have  found  them  not,  that  there  may  be 
Words  which  are  things, — Hopes  which  will  not  deceive, 
And  Virtues  which  are  merciful,  nor  weave 

Snares  for  the  failing :  I  would  also  deem 
O'er  others'  Griefs  that  some  sincerely  grieve; 

That  two,  or  one,  are  almost  what  they  seem, — 

That  Goodness  is  no  name,  and  Happiness  no  dream. 

Ct)e  S2U0tiu\  —Buckingham. 
'THE  World  is  made  up,  for  the  most  part,  of  fools  or  knaves, 
both  irreconcilable  foes  to  Truth :  the  first  being  slaves  to  a 
blind  Credulity,  which  we  may  properly  call  Bigotry:  the  last  are 
too  jealous  of  that  power  they  have  usurped  over  the  Folly  and  Ig- 
norance of  the  others,  which  the  establishment  of  the  empire  of  Rea- 
son would  destroy.  For  Truth,  being  made  so  plain  and  easy  to 
all  men,  would  render  the  designs  and  arts  of  knaves  of  little  use 
in  those  opinions  which  set  the  World  at  odds,  and  by  the  feuds 
they  maintain,  enrich  those  who,  in  a  charitable,  peaceful  World, 
must  starve. 

Cf)e  OTJOtttJ.  —  Greville. 
'THE  World  is  an  excellent  Judge  in  general,  but  a  very  bad  one 
in  particular. 

€f)e  TOOtHl.  —  Fuller. 
T'HOU  must  content  thyself  to  see  the  World  so  imperfect  as  it  is. 
Thou  wilt  never  have  any  Quiet  if  thou  vexest  thyself,  because 
thou  canst  not  bring  Mankind  to  that  exact  Notion  of  things  and 
Rule  of  Life  which  thou  hast  formed  in  thy  own  Mind. 

C f)e  ftHorUK  —  Chesterfield. 

T1THEN  I  reflect  on  what  I  have  seen,  what  I  have  heard,  and 

what  I  have  done,  I  can  hardly  persuade  myself  that  all  tha' 

frivolous  hurry  and  bustle  of  Pleasure  in  the  world  had  any  reality; 

but  I  look  upon  all  that  is  passed  as  one  of  those  romantic  dreams 


N°n 


5G2  IL  L  U  S  TR  AT10NS    OF   TR  U  Til; 

which  Opium  commonly  occasions,  and  I  do  by  no  means  desire  to 
repeat  the  nauseous  Dose. 

ILtp  MX 0 ISf) tp .  —  Shahspeare. 
My  Words  fly  up,  my  Thoughts  remain  below  : 
Words,  without  Thoughts,  never  to  Heaven  go. 

€f)0  <!M0X8t.  —  Shakspeare. 
The  Worst  is  not, 
So  long  as  we  can  say,  This  is  the  Worst. 

&2Unmg  tuber  comes  i\tgijt.  —  s.  T.  Coleridge. 

'THE  history  of  all  the  World  tells  us,  that  immoral  Means  will 
ever  intercept  good  Ends. 

IffJUti).—  Byron. 
more — no  more — oh  !  never  more  on  me 
The  freshness  of  the  Heart  can  fall  like  dew, 
Which  out  of  all  the  lovely  things  we  see 

Extracts  Emotions  beautiful  and  new, 
Hived  in  our  bosoms  like  the  bay  o'  the  Bee : 

Think'st  thou  the  Honey  with  those  objects  grew? 
Alas!  'twas  not  in  them,  but  in  thy  power 
To  double  even  the  sweetness  of  a  Flower. 
No  more — no  more — oh  !  never  more,  my  Heart, 

Canst  thou  be  my  sole  world,  my  Universe  ! 
Once  all  in  all,  but  now  a  thing  apart, 

Thou  canst  not  be  my  Blessing  or  my  Curse : 
The  illusion's  gone  for  ever,  and  thou  art 

Insensible,  I  trust,  but  none  the  worse. 

YOUtf).—  Anon. 
T>LEST  hour  of  Childhood  !  then,  and  then  alone, 

Dance  we  the  revels  close  round  Pleasure's  throne, 
Quaff  the  bright  nectar  from  her  fountain-springs, 
And  laugh  beneath  the  rainbow  of  her  wings. 
Oh  !  time  of  Promise,  Hope,  and  Innocence, 
Of  Trust,  and  Love,  and  happy  Ignorance ! 
Whose  every  dream  is  Heaven,  in  whose  fair  joy 
Experience  yet  has  thrown  no  black  alloy ; 
Whose  Pain,  when  fiercest,  lacks  the  venom'd  pang 
Which  to  maturer  ill  doth  oft  belong, 
When,  mute  and  cold,  we  weep  departed  bliss, 
And  Hope  expires  on  broken  Happiness. 

¥mttj.— Byron. 

A  LOVELY  Being,  scarcely  form'd  or  moulded, 
A  Rose  with  all  its  sweetest  leaves  yet  folded. 


OK,   THINGS  NEW  AXD  OLD.  563 

YOlltf). — Hannah  More. 
Oh  !  the  joy 
Of  young  Ideas  painted  on  the  mind, 
[n  the  warm  glowing  colours  Fancy  spreads 
On  objects  not  yet  known,  when  all  is  new, 
And  all  is  lovely. 

YOUtf).—  Byron. 
Her  Smiles  and  Tears  had  pass'd,  as  light  winds  pass 
O'er  lakes,  to  ruffle,  not  destroy,  their  Grlass. 

YCUtf).—  La  Brut/ere. 
"Y"OUNGr  Persons,  ou  account  of  their  Passion  for  various  amuse- 
ments, are  less  easily  reconciled  to  Solitude  than  persons  in 
more  advanced  life. 

YfjUti).  —  SirW.  Jones. 
rTHE  charms  of  Youth  at  once  are  seen  and  past; 
And  Nature  says,  "  They  are  too  sweet  to  last." 
So  blooms  the  Rose  :  and  so  the  blushing  Maid. 
Be  gay;  too  soon  the  flowers  of  Spring  will  fade. 

Yo  U  tf) .  —  Sh  akspeare. 
TIE  hath  borne  himself  beyond  the  promise  of  his  Age;  doing, 
in  the  figure  of  a  Lamb,  the  feats  of  a  Lion  :  he  hath,  indeed, 
bettered  Expectation. 

YOUtf).  —Byron. 
'THE  love  of  higher  things  and  better  days; 

The  unbounded  Hope,  and  heavenly  Ignorance 
Of  what  is  call'd  the  World,  and  the  World's  ways; 

The  moments  when  we  gather  from  a  glance 
More  joy  than  from  all  future  Pride  or  Praise, 

Which  kindle  Manhood,  but  can  ne'er  entrance 
The  Heart  in  an  existence  of  its  own, 
Of  which  another's  bosom  is  the  Zone. 

YOUti).  —  Scott. 
'JHE  Tear,  down  Childhood's  cheek  that  flows, 

Is  like  the  dew-drop  on  the  Rose ; 
When  next  the  Summer  breeze  comes  by, 
And  waves  the  bush,  the  Flower  is  dry. 

YOUtt).—  Byron. 
TN  earlier  Days,  and  calmer  Hours, 

When  Heart  with  Heart  delights  to  blend, 
Where  bloom  my  native  valley's  bowers, 
I  had — ah  !  have  I  now  ? — a  Friend  ! 
2x2 


564  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    TRUTH; 

¥OUtf).  —  Moore. 
T  IGHT,  winged  Hopes,  that  come  when  bid, 

And  rainbow  Joys  that  end  in  weeping, 
And  Passions,  among  pure  thoughts  hid, 
Like  serpents  under  Flow'rets  sleeping. 

ITOUtf).—  Rogers. 
OH  who,  when  fading  of  itself  away, 

Would  cloud  the  Sunshine  of  his  little  day  ! 
Now  is  the  May  of  Life.     Careering  round, 
Joy  wings  his  feet,  Joy  lifts  him  from  the  ground. 

¥0Uti)  atttl  &ge.  —  Cicero. 
A  S  I  approve  of  a  Youth,  that  has  something  of  the  Old  Man  in 
him,  so  I  am  no  less  pleased  with  an  Old  Man,  that  has  some- 
thing of  the  Youth. 

¥0Utf)  aritl  &fle.  —  Shakspeare. 

Youth  no  less  becomes 
The  light  and  careless  livery  that  it  wears, 
Than  settled  Age  his  sables,  and  his  weeds, 
Importing  Health,  and  Graveness. 


%\t  <8nfc. 


